


Non-defined, Non-conventional

by Fanquinine



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, In Character, M/M, post-513
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 82,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1328722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanquinine/pseuds/Fanquinine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Justin left for New York, he never thought it was the beginning of the end. Brian, however, is intent on letting go for good, so Justin can be free to pursue the life of his dreams. </p><p>After saying goodbye to his lover, Brian finds himself at risk of losing that little thing that still makes his life meaningful, shaking the weakened foundations of his sanity. The path ahead is dark, but sometimes the sun shines unexpectedly. Can Brian and Justin accept the changes in and around them? Can they redefine their concepts of sacrifice, family, love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The times when you're not around

 

 

Justin typed 'Rage' on the _Subject_ field and clicked _Send._ "There," he said. "The sketches for the new issue are on the way."

Framed by a rectangle on the computer screen, Michael sent his child-like smile all the way from Pittsburgh to Justin's new place in New York City through his webcam. "Awesome!"

Justin watched his friend's eyes dance over his own screen back in the comic book store as he checked out the drawings. Behind him, the last issue of _Rage_ was on display. The shelves were considerably more depleted than the last time Justin had video-called there, which was a good sign.

"This is great," Michael praised.

Justin grinned. "Isn’t it always?"

Michael rolled his eyes at him before scrolling through the pictures again, in awe. "Justin... I really can't thank you enough for wanting to go on with _Rage_. I mean, when you moved so recently, and you have your new job, and your paintings..."

"It’s no big deal," Justin said, dismissing his thanks with a gesture of his hand. "We couldn't just kill off the best gay superhero of all times, could we?"

Michael grinned. "Yeah, but remember he just got married! He could have retired, you know, settled down..." he jested.

Justin’s face fell somewhat, but he managed a sad smile. "No… he couldn't."

Michael averted his eyes from the screen for a second, letting an uncomfortable silence grow between them. Something told him they were not talking about the comic anymore. "He always asks about you..." he tried, softly.

"Oh, yeah?" Justin grunted. "How about he asks me directly for a change?"

When Justin had left Pittsburgh, he'd seen it as opening a new door in his life, not as closing any. Despite Brian's ominous words the night before he left for New York City, despite the way he'd made love to him as if that was the very last time, Justin had never had the intention to put an end to whatever it was that they shared.

Brian, however, seemed to think differently. He did call in the next morning to ask about the flight, about the place Justin was staying at, about what Justin planned to do next. Then, in the following days, Brian was suddenly so busy that they could barely exchange a couple of words over the phone.

At first, being quite busy himself - trying to find a decent place to paint and a job so he could afford said place - Justin hadn't given it much thought. With Babylon being rebuilt and Kinnetik thriving as it was, it was no wonder Brian had his hands full. Soon he'd have free time and he would come to visit.

Only he never came. He never called and was never available when Justin did. He never even e-mailed. After seven weeks, Justin was beginning to suspect that he never would.

Michael fidgeted on his seat, regretting that he'd brought it up. "Listen, Justin... Brian's just trying to let you expand your horizons, live your own li..."

"I know what he's trying to do, thank you very much," Justin cut off, aggravated. _I just wish he'd asked for_ my _opinion first._

Michael opened his mouth to say he was sorry, but snapped it shut when a naked male torso showed on the camera behind Justin. The angle didn't allow him to see the guy's head or anything below his waist, but it was a fine torso.

"Are you ready?" the mysterious man asked Justin. "We gotta be there in thirty minutes." He sounded young.

"We'll be there in time, don't worry," Justin mumbled, still disgruntled.

As the stranger walked away from the camera, Michael could see that he was a brunet and wore nothing but a towel around his waist.

"So, who's your nice visitor?" Michael couldn't resist asking, trying his best to sound innocent.

He failed. Justin knew that tone all too well. It was the you're-on-your-way-to-break-Brian's-heart-again-aren't-you-you-little-prick tone.

The blond clenched his jaw. How dare Michael judge him when Brian was the one who'd been locking him out? "I believe that's none of your business? Now, I have plans for lunch, so why don't you go through the drawings and tell me later if you need anything else? Bye!" Justin made the fakest smile he could muster before disconnecting.

 

 

Michael was left staring at a black rectangle on the screen, his lips pressed in a thin line in irritation.

Resigned, he sighed and shook his head, closing the computer and grabbing his jacket, ready to close the store and go have lunch. Justin was right, the guys he brought home were none of his business, and he should have learned by now to stay out of it. It was easier said than done, though, especially when he'd been with Brian every day since Justin left and witnessed what he was going through.

The first week, Michael thought, had been the worst. When Brian didn't show up at Woody's or at Popperz, the boys decided to look for him. Turned out that he was in his loft working, not in a random guy's ass, but in his laptop. He'd explained, sounding very calm, very sober, that he had a very important campaign to plan, so no, he couldn't 'go out and play'. It was so scary that they'd decided - even Ben insisted on it - that Michael should spend the night with him to assure that nothing tragic would happen.

The next night, Brian announced that he would be working late in his office, so he couldn't go out with them - again. The same happened for the remainder of the week, and an astonished Ted assured that he truly had been at the office. There had been no tricks, no booze, no drugs. Just late night work and going home alone to sleep.

Brian was grieving.

In the following week, he'd come back to normal. Or so it seemed. He went clubbing again, drinking again, tricking again, only this time it was to an extreme that Michael had never seen, not even before Justin showed up in their lives. It became impossible to find him without a guy attached to his dick by one end or the other, unless one tried to meet him in his office, and even that, Ted assured, wasn't a secure bet. The most unsettling of it all was that these guys seemed to deviate more and more from what Brian used to look for in his tricks. And it was never the same one twice. How he managed to find so many slender, blond young men was anybody's guess.

Brian was miserable.

In the third week, Mel and Linds had finally invited the fathers of their children to visit them in Toronto. Michael and Brian had packed their bags and taken the first flight they could. That's when the miracle happened. When Gus ran to Brian yelling, "Dada!" in excitement, Michael saw a true smile on his friend's face for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. They'd got to know the girls' lovely new house, their nice, children-friendly neighborhood. They both had spent a good time with their very much missed offspring and when they'd returned, Brian seemed to be back to his former self.

It was an improvement, but still not good enough, Michael thought, as he strode along Liberty Avenue towards the diner. Because Brian's former self went out to have fun with his friends, but he still felt the need to leave at some point to lose himself on something - or someone. Because Brian's former self could be more or less satisfied, but he was never truly happy. Because Brian's former self didn't have Justin.

Michael walked into the diner, avoiding by an inch to be hit by Kiki and the pink plate special she was delivering. He slid carefully among the waiters towards their usual booth. Ben, Emmett, Ted and Blake were already there. Brian occupied the furthermost seat in the contiguous booth alone, facing the boys from afar.

“Hey, guys,” Michael greeted.

“Hi!”

“Hey, Mikey.”

“And hello, my dearest husband!” he added, theatrically, leaning over the table to kiss Ben.

“Oh! Here, honey, take my seat,” Emmett offered, preparing to stand up as he was sitting next to Ben.

Michael pushed him back down. “No, no! It’s ok, Em. I’ll… sit in there with Brian…” he uttered with a sigh.

Ted and Em exchanged looks and Blake looked down at his plate. They all knew how Brian could be touchy these days.

“Good luck,” Ben mouthed, with a sad smile.

“Hey, Brian,” Michael almost whispered, sliding into the seat before his best friend.

Brian gave him an empty smile. “You know, Mikey, my head won’t explode if you talk to me A LITTLE LOUDER!” He all but yelled the last words, causing heads to turn all around them.

“Sorry…” Michael said, embarrassed.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Debbie announced, striding towards them, misinterpreting Brian’s yell for that of an unsatisfied customer. She planted herself in front of their table aiming a reproving look at Brian. “Oh, it’s you! Don’t do that again! It’s awfully rude! We’re all working hard in here, but we can’t do everything at the same time!” She turned to Michael and beamed, planting a gooey kiss on his cheek. “Hi sweetie! How was your morning?”

“Quiet. I finished unpacking some stuff, wrote down some ideas for _Rage_ …” Michael peeked at Brian, who was now staring at the table with a look of never ending boredom. “…and I talked to Justin.” Brian’s gaze snapped up at him in an instant.

“How great! How’s Sunshine?” Debbie asked, cheerful.

“Fine. He found this new place to live, where he can paint too,” Michael told. “I think he’s still working in that art supplies store… And his _Rage_ art is still amazing, so…”

“Isn’t it always?” Brian murmured.

“That’s wonderful!” Debbie cheered, before adding in an admonishing tone. “Isn’t it, Brian?” She couldn’t be more vehement in her disapproval of Brian's behavior towards Justin. Having expressed her feelings on the situation countless times - in the most explicit ways - to no avail, she was now reduced to veiled, accusatory hints.

“It is,” Brian agreed, sounding sincere for once.

Debbie sighed and wetted the pen in her tongue, getting the notepad at the ready. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

She scribbled down as they made their orders. "I'm glad to know Sunshine's doing well," Debbie said, smiling at her son before leaving to take care of their food.

"Yeah... Way too well..." Michael muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Mikey?" Brian asked, leaning forward.

"Oh, it's nothing..." he grumbled.

Brian arched an eyebrow at him.

Michael puffed, indignant, and blurted out. "He had a half-naked guy with him! We were talking with video and he didn't even bother!... They were going to have lunch together or something and..." He stopped himself when he took notice of Brian's eyes, dangerously inexpressive. "Shit! I should have kept my mouth shut," Michael whined.

"Damn right you should, Mikey," Brian agreed, with one of his empty smiles. "Justin's an adult so he can fuck and have lunch with whoever he wants, and you are to keep that big nose of yours out of it."

“Brian, you’ve been a wreck since he’s gone! You can play nonchalant all you want, I won’t believe you don’t care,” Michael affirmed.

“Who’s asked you to believe anything?” Brian snapped.

Michael huffed in exasperation. “Why don’t you just… talk to him? It’s not like he left for China or anything. It’s just New York, it’s right around the corner! You could…”

“It’s not ‘just New York’, Mikey,” Brian cut off, peeved. “It’s a new life. A life that he could never seek if he was with me. I don’t want to be with someone that’s sacrificing to be with me, waiting for something that I could never give him.”

“Couldn’t you, really?” Michael said, soothing. “You would marry him.”

“I would,” Brian admitted. “But what does it matter? He doesn’t want the ‘me’ who would marry him.”

 Michael sighed. “You know, Brian… You not wanting anyone to sacrifice for you… I think that’s very noble and mature of you both. But _this_ … doesn’t it feel like you’re sacrificing something anyway?”

“Here you go, boys!” Debbie intruded with a beamy smile, placing their plates in front of them.

“You can have mine, Mikey,” Brian uttered, before grabbing his overcoat and briefcase, leaving his seat.

All eyes in the next table followed his steps as he walked to the door.

“What’s with him?” Debbie asked, worried.

“What do you think?” Michael murmured as the door closed behind his best friend’s back.

 

 

Outside the diner, Brian adjusted his coat over his shoulders, lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Michael’s moralistic shit and his uncalled for advice had succeeded in make him lose his appetite. What was with him, anyway? He’d never been that fond of his relationship with Justin, and now that it’d come to its ultimate end, he thought differently all of a sudden? To think that the day would come when Michael would the one trying to prevent him, Brian, from doing the right thing. To think that he was now inwardly flipping at Michael so it was easier to hide from his words.

Brian walked across the street and his heart skipped a beat when his gaze landed on a blond head among the crowd on the sidewalk. He recognized the guy’s face. Vaguely. Someone he’d done, most likely. He finished his cigarette with a long drag. Brian had thought that, after seven weeks, he would have stopped seeing _him_ everywhere. He’d been wrong. Fuck.

When he spotted a familiar face passing him by, Brian didn’t miss the chance to distract his mind from painful thoughts.

“Hey, Brandon.”

The other man turned around and his eyes filled with surprise. “Brian! Hi.”

They shook hands and Brian opened his briefcase, searching for something inside. “Listen, Babylon’s grand reopening will be next Saturday.” He retrieved a colorful Special Guest Pass and handed it to Brandon. “I want you to be there.”

The man studied the card in his hands. A teasing grin formed on his lips as he looked back at Brian. “What’s up? The Great Brian Kinney is no longer enough to attract all the hot studs in Liberty Avenue?”

Brian smiled at him. “Maybe. Maybe not. But why risk it?”

Brandon’s expression softened and he nodded as he eyed the invitation again. “I’ll be there,” he said at last. “Thanks.”

Brian said goodbye with a slight bow of his head and went on walking towards his car. For the nth time, he wondered what the hell kept him going these days.


	2. The best homosexual you could possibly be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's your second chapter. I'll be happy to know what you think of it (good, bad or whatever ) down to the tiniest details! ;) How do you like it so far?

  

"Why didn't you just tell him?" Justin's 'nice visitor' asked, sitting on the futon after having overheard his conversation with Michael. Only he wasn't a visitor. They'd been living together for about three weeks now.

Colin was an art student and Justin had met him as a client in his work place. They ended up finding out how much they had in common, and not only when it came to favorite color shades. Both of them had just arrived at the city, were staying at a friend's friends and looking for a freelance career in painting. They also shared an interest in cartoon animation and Colin had been very excited to know that Justin published his own comic book.

"Why should I?" Justin grumbled, spinning on his chair. "He's nosy enough as it is. There's no need for me to report every single detail of my life."

"Whatever you say," Colin said, resigned, buttoning up his shirt. Justin raised a brow at the fact that it was at least a couple of sizes too big on him and a terrible match for the pants he was wearing. If there was something that they didn't have in common, it was a fashion sense. Colin was pretty cute and had a fine body. Too bad he wasn’t very fond of showing it off.

"You know, if you so much as _glanced_ at what you're putting on before you do it, you might look hot," Justin remarked.

Colin shrugged. "Dressing good is time consuming. Besides, as an artist, I have the right to dress as weird as I like."

"Fine. I'll remind you of those words the next time you come to me complaining you're not getting any," Justin retorted.

"Ouch! That was cruel," he said, with an amused chuckle that made Justin smile. Colin was a very good natured guy, making all the more pleasant to live with him. One day he would make some lucky girl very happy.

Justin had never thought he would find a straight guy who would be so at ease about sharing his quarters with a gay man. Another proof against Brian's claim that all heterosexuals hated gays. It was great that he'd found him - Justin would never be able to pay for their current place on his own.

The studio wasn't quite as large as Brian's loft, but still pretty spacious, with two perpendicular walls covered in glass windows which provided great natural lighting, perfect for a couple of artists to do their thing. There was only one bed but that had never been a problem. The futon was comfortable enough. Still, Justin was happy that the coin flip had assigned it to Colin.

“So, have you heard from Luxolis Gallery yet?” Colin asked as he finished his attire with the ugliest glasses Justin had ever seen.

“Yes…” Justin replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“And?” Colin froze to stare at him, eyes wide in expectation.

A slow smile grew on Justin’s face. “Two weeks from now, my paintings will be hanging in their walls!”

"Yes!" Colin threw his hands up in the air and made a victory dance. "See? I told you they would be interested! This is awesome, that exhibition will be great exposure for your works."

"Yeah..." Justin's paintings would be sharing a room with a couple of fairly renowned artists, under the gaze of hardcore art collectors and influential critics. He exhaled a sudden twinge of nervousness and chuckled. "Damn, I was beginning to lose hope!"

As soon as Justin had arrived to New York, he'd noticed the effects of the praising article about him. A gallery had shown interest in displaying a couple of his paintings in a thematic exhibition and they were both sold the first day. Shortly after, he had the chance to hang his works on a different gallery for a week long show, and it had been a success. Or so he thought at the time.

After that, it was suddenly as if the article had never existed and he was just another anonymous wannabe artist in the crowd. It looked like New York's art world was as quick to forget as Hollywood was. Or maybe Justin's expectations had flown too high at that initial flash of success.

However, he never let the apparent cool down of his celebrity burst his bubble. He still had his other project, after all: _Rage_. The online sales of the comic were sound and steady, but it was still a niche product. Justin thought it deserved to expand into larger shelves, and New York seemed like a good place to start. The success for their comics that _Rage: The Movie_ could have achieved overnight was something Justin still wanted to pursue by his own means.

That's what their lunch meeting was all about. Heather, the person who would meet them, was Colin's classmate and, if his words were to be trusted, she was also a comic expert who’d put Michael to shame. She was not only a connoisseur of the mainstream American and Japanese comics, but also liked to find alternative styles from all over the world. Along her quests for knowledge she’d also earned a lot of contacts in the field. She knew most comic book stores in the city and had worked in several of them during her teenage years.

Colin had deemed her an essential intermediary if Justin wanted to bring _Rage_ to New York and had introduced the comic to her. She'd loved the concept, and claimed to know about five different stores that might be receptive to the idea of selling it.

It seemed like there was still hope for that particular aspect of Justin's career.

"Hey, don't ever lose hope!" Colin admonished. "Self-confidence takes you halfway to success.”

Justin made a lopsided smile. As if he didn’t know that, familiar as he was with the best example.

“And you _must_ be successful,” Colin went on. ”And famous and rich, so you can buy me the yacht of my dreams in memory of the time we were a couple of nobodies."

"I'll think about it," Justin uttered, lost in his thoughts.

Noticing his mental absence, Colin rolled his eyes. "There you go again!" he sighed.

"What?"

"You're thinking of him again! That... Barney?"

"It’s Brian!" Justin corrected.

“Well, you are, aren’t you?”

“Very perceptive. You should have been an artist,” Justin grunted.

He wasn’t one to share too many intimate details with someone he had known so recently, but when they’d moved to the studio they'd had a private inauguration party with too much alcohol for just two people. Colin had ended up ranting about how he’d been bullied throughout middle and high school for being too skinny – the probable culprit of his current disrespect for his own figure. Justin had followed suit, disclosing the whole Brian drama.

“Man, I really don’t get you,” Colin admitted, shaking his head. “Tell me again: why exactly didn’t you marry this guy?”

“Because he was acting all weird, becoming this completely different person to please me! I don’t want a completely different person, I want Brian!”

Colin leaned back on his seat with a raised brow, sensing there was something more on the way.

“You know, the funny thing is, we weren’t together anymore when he asked me to marry him,” Justin confessed, feeling the familiar pang of guilt that hit him every time he thought of this issue. “I… I’d left him.”

“Oh!...” He had never mentioned that little detail to Colin before. Some things were just too difficult to explain.

“Yeah, I… I was tired of his… refusal to grow up, and to acknowledge that there are more important things in life than to be the hottest stud in town. I’d always wanted to have a proper family, and I realized I could never have that with him. So I… tried to move on!” Justin revealed, contrite. He couldn’t help but think that Brian’s need to break up for good was his own fault. He’d chosen a hypothetical future family over him, and now Brian thought he needed to be ‘free’ to look for it.

“But then you accepted his proposal anyway,” Colin pointed out.

“Yes. Because I realized he really meant it, that he was willing to let go of everything he believed in… for me. He loved me that much. But then he just…” Justin shrugged. “He wasn’t him anymore. He was killing the real Brian to become the Brian that he _thought_ I wanted him to be. But I didn’t want that. I love the free-spirit Brian, even if he’s the same Brian who despises monogamy, and thinks it’s just a bunch of lies people fool themselves into believing,” he concluded with a sad smile.

“Well, he has a point there,” Colin considered.

“You think?” Justin uttered in surprise. He hadn’t taken Colin for the cynical type.

“Of course! Like, when you were with Brian… You loved him, right?”

“Yeah!”

“And yet, how many guys did you look at who made you think, ‘Man, he’s hot, I wish I could fuck him’?”

“A lot of them,” Justin admitted.

“And what’d you do then?”

“I went and fucked them,” he admitted again.

“Exactly! Now imagine all those people who don’t have such an open relationship, who are expected to stick to a single person for a huge period of time, maybe for their entire life!” Colin was so enthused with his own speech that he had to stand up and start pacing from side to side in front of Justin. “Even the most… naturally monogamous person will have a few unexpected urges from time to time. We all do! And then what? Either we give in and find ourselves deceiving and hurting the person we love… or we sweep all our wildest, sweetest desires under the rug until they wither and die a slow, painful death,” he concluded in a remarkably ominous tone.

Justin grimaced. “Gee, you make it sound even more horrible than Brian does!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Colin said, sitting back in the futon with a self-satisfied smile. "Just... don't mention to Heather that I said that. I'm not sure about her opinion on the subject..."

Colin had a bit of a crush on Heather and was, in his own words, still ‘trying to decide what to do of it’. Justin had made him notice that, if he refused to follow his advice on clothes, there might never be something to decide about.

Justin chuckled. “You hypocritical coward!” He sighed. “But… You’re right, of course. Brian made me realize that. Love is not about fucking a single person, or exchanging rings, or any of that superficial shit.”

“See?” Colin said. “The real problem here is that Brian got sucked in the same trap as everyone else!”

“You mean, by wanting to marry me?”

“No, by thinking that he would have to change so drastically to marry you! Marriage is just a formality, really, a symbol of his affection for you. You said it yourself, you didn’t want him to change that much, you just wanted him to acknowledge what really matters the most to him.”

“And he did,” Justin admitted.

“Now, since we agree on that,” Colin said, solemnly uniting the tips of his fingers. “Would you stop sulking every time a word, or a song, or… _your socks_ make you think of Brian and go talk to the guy already? Fly over to Pittsburgh!"

Justin puffed. "He’s been avoiding me like the plague, remember? I’d say he’s very firm about not contacting me again, and when he decides to do something... he goes all the way." The absolute truth of the thought made him feel hopeless again. "Fuck..."

“How about something that convinces _him_ to come _to you?"_ Colin suggested, “I could tell him that you’re on your deathbed.”

“That’s taking it too far,” Justin deadpanned.

“Send him a naked picture of you?”

Justin shook his head. “Not enough to make him come. Come _here_ , I mean,” he rephrased with a smirk.

“What would be, then?”

Justin shrugged. “I have no… idea...” He let his voice trail, as something came to his mind. “Actually, I do. The exhibition.”

“What about it?”

“Brian always went to my exhibitions. Even before we had an actual relationship, and even when we were separated. Maybe if I send him an invitation…”

“You think he would come?”

“It’s a possibility. I can't be sure, though."

"Hey, come on!" Colin said, patting his back. "What did I tell you about hope? Now let's go, Heather must be waiting for us already. Who knows, you might still have a back-up plan: invite him over to _Rage_ 's debut in New York City! No one would miss _that_!"

Thinking of _Rage_ succeeded in lightening up Justin's mood a little. "Have you ever thought of becoming a counselor, or something?" he asked, only half-joking.

"Actually, I have!" Colin replied, half-serious.

Justin followed him out of the studio and towards the nearest subway station. He was eager to meet Heather and the store owners she could bring in tow, to plan the best way to take _Rage_ a step further. Michael would go crazy if this succeeded and, despite their recent spat, he knew he would be excited to tell him about it.

In a couple of days, Justin recalled, he would also have a meeting with the people from Luxolis Gallery to plan his exhibition. His mind was already full of ideas and suggestions.

Justin smiled. He was finally his own man, trying to make his own way in the world. All the uncertainties only added to the thrill. All in all, he considered, not marrying Brian had been for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a little quiet so far (not to have a strong inciting incident right from the first chapter is a big no-no) but I felt I needed the introductory chapters for both our boys, so I considered the goodbye scene in 513 ( :'( ) to be my inciting incident! So please bear with it :) This is the quiet before the storm, believe me xD.


	3. I wish I could forget

 

"You should have sent Justin the invitation," Michael told Brian for the hundredth time that night.

It was the long awaited reopening night and they were all walking from Woody's to Babylon. Ted was with Blake, Emmett had invited Calvin - the childhood colleague he’d recently reacquainted with - to get to know Pittsburgh's night scene and Michael walked hand in hand with Ben and beside Brian, who'd come alone.

"I heard you the first time, Mikey. The answer is still the same: I don't want him here," Brain retorted.

"Why not?" Blake asked, sounding innocent when he was everything but.

"Isn't it obvious, sweetie?" Emmett intervened before Brian had the opportunity to. "We're talking about Brian here. He isn't exactly famous for resisting his urges."

"He wouldn't be able to keep his hands off him," Ted agreed.

"And that would, of course, ruin his evil plan to break the lad's heart once and for all," Emmett concluded with more than a little bit of accusation in his tone.

"Come on, Em, don't be so harsh!" Ted said, proceeding with the conversation as if Brian wasn't present. "Can you imagine the suffering he's putting himself through, going to Babylon without his Sunshine? He'll wander right back to those sweet, sweet days when he used to be in that same dance floor with Justin, dancing with Justin, making out with Justin, pulling Justin to the backroom where Justin would blow him..."

"Would you shut the fuck up, Theodore?" Brian burst out. "Justin's gone! Why don't you let it go?"

"We could ask the same thing to you, honey," Emmett noted.

Brian’s nostrils flared and for a moment it looked like he would blow up, but then he turned around and strode ahead of them. He would say nothing when there was nothing to be said.

"Geez, guys! When are you gonna stop being so mean to him?" Michael protested.

"Excuse me?" Emmett uttered, indignant. "When did he stop being mean to us?"

"And most of the times it did us more good than harm, if I might add," Ted admitted.

Outraged, Michael turned to Ben in search for support.

His husband raised his hands in a surrender gesture. "I'm sorry, Michael, but I actually think they have a point this time."

Michael threw his hands up. "You guys are unbelievable!"

"Are your friends always this... interesting?" Calvin asked Emmett discreetly, unsure if he should be amused or worried about the events playing out before him.

"Oh, honey, you haven't seen half of it!"

 

Meanwhile, Brian approached the growing lines to enter his renewed club. The next day, people would be wondering how it was possible that a place with a bomb in its recent history could be already filled with grinding bodies. Brian knew there was no mystery. Feed people's conscience with ideas of endurance, belonging, standing up after the fall, not letting 'them' win and they will do anything, let alone partying and fucking all night long. He’d used them all in his reopening ads and _voilà_ , Babylon was back. In a few days no one would even recall that people had gotten injured and died on the same floor where they were dancing.

Brian, however, would always remember.

He greeted the burly security guard with a brief nod before he gave him passage.

Inside, not much had changed. Colorful lights swept the undulating mass of more or less dressed men dancing to the loud _thumpa_ - _thumpa_. Brian plowed through the crowd towards the bar, where he hoped to find his manager. As he wasn't there, Brian went to look in the staff area in the back, where he found him giving instructions to a couple of go-go boys.

Noticing his boss coming in, Alonzo dismissed the boys, who went to work, ogling Brian on their way out. He gave them an appreciative look. They wore colorful trunks and were both hot, as was required of their job, but looking was everything Brian would be doing. Since the incident with Kip, he had a strict policy of not fucking with employees. Justin had been the only exception. He usually was.

"Hey, Brian!" The manager greeted, shaking his hand. "Have you seen the line outside? I never thought there would be so many people the first night!"

"Is it going to be a problem?"

"Oh, no, not at all! We're prepared, everything is under control," Alonzo assured. He gave Brian a friendly pat on the shoulder. "You go in there and have fun. Is Justin coming?"

It was a casual and innocent question but it was enough to grant the manager a look that would cause hell to freeze over.

Alonzo took a step back. "Meanwhile, I... I'll go back there and... mind my own business," he stuttered.

"You better," Brian deadpanned.

When the manager disappeared of his sight, Brian hung his jacket, leaving only his black sleeveless button up shirt on, and walked back onto the dance floor. As he mingled with the dancing crowd, he realized how painfully right Ted had been. Whenever he looked over his shoulder, he expected to see Justin approaching him, holding a couple of drinks with a bright smile on his face.

He felt a hand touch his elbow and turned around. Brian had never been so disappointed at finding his best friend beaming at him.

Michael stood on his tiptoes to talk closer to Brian’s ear. “Hey, it’s our song! Let’s dance!”

Brian looked around, as if that would help him listen more clearly. He hadn’t noticed that the initial beat of _Proud_ was playing. He didn’t feel much like dancing either, but Michael was making his happy puppy face at him so, not wanting to let him down, Brian grabbed his hand and pulled him along towards one of the platforms.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked, amused, as he watched Brian shoo a couple of confused go-go boys off of the platform.

“Making room for us,” Brian said. He used the railing to hoist himself up and held his hand out to Michael, who climbed after him.

Brian responded to Michael’s smile with his own, laying his hands on his friend’s shoulders as they began to move together to the beat.

 **What have you done today to make you feel proud?** the loudspeakers questioned, muting every other sound.

From up there, it was easy to spot the others among the crowd. Ben, swaying along, was smiling at them. Ted was by the bar with Blake. Emmett, dancing with Calvin, looked like he was having a lot of fun.

**What have you done today to make you feel proud?**

Brian wondered. He’d brought Babylon back from the dead. Should he feel proud of that?

He’d also received an e-mail from Justin and he’d deleted it without reading. It had taken a lot of willpower, but for some reason he didn’t feel very proud of that either.

**What have you done today to make you feel proud?**

Michael smiled at him. Brian felt the cold touch of his friend’s wedding ring when he cupped his cheek to peck his lips, before looking at him in that special way that said _I love you_ without a need for words. Brian watched Michael with a half-smile on his lips as he stepped down of the platform to meet Ben. He supposed he could feel a little proud of making his friend happy, even if a dance was all he needed. It was something.

Alone in the platform, Brian closed his eyes and put his hands up in the air, drowning in the hypnotizing sound, trying to forget himself as the lights danced over him and glittery confetti fell from above. He dwelt in the inebriated trance induced by the _thumpa-thumpa_ until something touched his leg.

Looking down, he found Emmett smiling up at him. “Hey, handsome!” he yelled at Brian over the music, winking in a playfully seductive manner.

Brian crouched on the platform next to him. “What do you want, Honeycutt?”

“Firstly, I want you to stop calling me Honeycutt,” he said, adjusting Brian’s collar, before holding his hand to pull him down. “Then, I wanna dance!”

Brian stepped down the platform and let a grinning Emmett put his arms around his neck. Laying both his hands on his friend’s waist, Brian moved along with him. “Where’s your boy-toy?” he asked.

Emmett rolled his eyes. “Oh, who knows? There is so much to do in here. Or should I say, so _many_!” He giggled.

Brian raised an eyebrow at him.

Emmett feigned outrage. “What? Can’t I have a ‘non-relationship’ as well?”

“What do you mean, ‘as well’?” Brian asked, leaning closer to his ear.

Emmett studied his friend’s face as they swayed from side to side. Brian might be good at hiding his feelings but at his point, for someone who knew him well enough, he was becoming quite transparent.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Emmett said on Brian’s ear. “Teddy and I were being a little bitchy.”

“I have no idea of what you’re talking about,” Brian said, lazily. He felt, more than saw, Emmett’s smile. They were dancing almost cheek to cheek now, so they could listen to each other.

“Well, we do it because we worry about you,” Emmett said. “I’m sure you can relate.”

Brian just stared at him as they moved, his lips sucked in, in a semblance of a smile.

Emmett hugged him closer and talked to his ear again, this time in a softer, non-admonishing tone. “Justin is no longer the lost, naive seventeen year old boy that you found on the street.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Brian scoffed, letting his friend lead their movement along the dance floor.

“What I mean is, he’s as much of a man as you are. Well, sort of. But you’re on your way there,” Emmett jested, good-natured, before getting serious again. “Justin knows who he is and what he wants. It’s not your place to shut him out ‘for his own good’. Especially if it’s making you miserable.”

Brian remained silent, thoughtful, looking Emmett in the eye as they danced. He was aware that Emmett was the most levelheaded of their bunch, yet he hadn't offered him advice very often before. He’d probably assumed that he wouldn't take it anyway - and he'd probably been right. Was Emmett also able to tell that Brian wasn't the same as before?

"Fine, don't say anything! Can you at least promise to think about what I just said?" Emmett pleaded.

Brian gave him a smile. "Sure! I have nothing interesting to do tomorrow morning anyway."

Emmett grinned, hugged him and let out an excited whoop.

As the song ended, they found themselves among the rest of the guys, who had coalesced near them.

"Babylon looks better than ever, Brian," Ben complimented, with his sober smile.

"Why, thank you, Professor! You look pretty good yourself!" Brian said. "Now, you boys enjoy the playground while the grown-ups take a break."

He turned around to leave, forgetting that Emmett still had a hold of his arm, rooting him in place. He looked at their intertwined arms as if they were strange objects, then at Emmett. "Well, may I?" Brian demanded.

"Where are you going?" Michael asked, sounding as suspicious as Emmett looked, still latching onto his arm.

"Isn't it unprofessional to get your dick sucked in your own club?" Ted mused.

"Nothing is gonna be sucked, Theodore." Brian said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just going outside to make a phone call." He turned to Emmett. "May I, _mommy_?"

"Sure," Emmett said, releasing his arm with obvious reluctance. “I’m still in need of a dance partner," he yelled after Brian as he walked away.

"I'll be back," Brian uttered.

Emmett relaxed a little at that. "And think about it, baby!" he added, confusing everyone else as to what he was talking about.

 

Brian stepped into the cold air of the night and lit a cigarette to help him blow his exasperation away. He was getting tired of everyone around him acting as if he might kill himself anytime. Not that he had never thought of that. But there was at least one reason why he could never do it.

He retrieved the cellphone from his pocket and scrolled down his contact list until he got to the L's. He let out a bitter chuckle at realizing those were right under the J's. The universe really was set on him tonight.

After his eyes had lingered for a moment on Justin's name, he scrolled down and called Lindsay. She picked up after three rings, greeting him with a muffled, "Do you have any idea what time it is, Brian?"

"Quite early, it's barely 1 a.m. Why?" he retorted, cheerful.

"Gus caught a cold." Lindsay replied, stern. "He’s got a snotty nose, he's whiny and I've been trying to get him to sleep since forever, and you..."

"Is Da on the phone?" a child's voice interrupted from Lindsay's side, to Brian's delight.

"I'm right here, sonny boy!" Brian yelled, as if Gus could hear him from afar.

Lindsay huffed. "Brian, please! Can you behave like the adult man you are, for once?"

"Fine, then. Why didn't you tell me he was sick?" Brian demanded, accusatory.

"It's just a cold, Brian!"

"Did you take him to the doctor?"

"Of course I took him to the doctor! What do you think I'd do?"

"I want to see him."

"Well, you can't!"

The finality of the words struck Brian into silence for a moment. "What?!" he uttered at last.

Lindsay sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. It's just... right now it's not a very good time. So… maybe next week, ok?"

"What's with now?"

"My parents came over for the weekend," she mumbled.

Brian scoffed. "Un-fucking-believable! Don't tell me that they finally got over the fact that your loving husband has a pussy!"

"As if! They're barely acknowledging Mel's existence," she admitted, miffed. "But they fell in love with Gus when we were living with them and... I don't want to deprive him from a healthy relationship with his grandparents."

“A healthy relationship! How sweet! Indeed, every little boy should have the chance to watch his grandparents despise his Momma in every way they can,” Brian sneered. “Now, can I talk to him? He’s already up anyway.”

Lindsay sighed in resignation. “Fine…”

Brian heard some rumbling as the phone changed hands.

“Da?” a childish, nasal voice uttered.

Brian smiled. “Hi there, sonny boy. How’s it going?”

“My throat hurts,” Gus complained. “But it’s cool, because the doctor says I don’t need to go to school on Monday.”

Brian chuckled. “That’s right, sonny boy. Always look at the bright side. No cheating, though. You have to take every medicine and do everything your mommies tell you to. Ok?”

“Ok.”

“Good boy.”

“When will you come here, Da?” Gus asked, whiny.

Brian felt his throat clench. “In a few days I’ll be there to see you, I promise. Now, give your mother a goodnight kiss for me and go to sleep, ok?”

“’Kay, Da. Da?”

“Yes?”

“Can Justin come with you this time? I want him to make a drawing of me in my new slide.”

Brian closed his eyes shut, pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. He managed to answer in a casual tone. “I’m sorry, Gus. I don’t think he can go."

"Oh... Maybe next time, then."

"Maybe..." Brian lied.

"Goodbye Da!"

"Bye, sonny boy."

Brian listened to the rumbling again as Gus handed the phone back to Lindsay. He heard them saying their goodnights to each other and she promised to be back beside Gus in no time. Then, he heard a door closing. When Lindsay spoke again, she didn't sound as annoyed as before.

"Not so easy to say 'goodbye forever' to someone who's part of the family, is it?"

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we just... not talk about it?"

"Sure, Brian," she said, compassionate. "Listen, I... I gotta go back to Gus. You have a good night. And... thanks for calling."

"'Night."

 

After hanging up, Brian leant on the outer wall of Babylon to finish his smoke. He observed the line to enter the club, trying to choose the lucky one who would blow him tonight. It wasn't a surprise that he'd done most of the hot ones already. It was much more disturbing to realize that he'd done half of them together with Justin. After the last drag, he scrunched the cigarette bud under his foot with way more energy than necessary.

As Brian scanned the crowd in search for new faces, he noticed a figure that stood out, and not for his physical attributes. Wearing a white dress shirt and tie under a brown overcoat, he didn't look much like someone ready to party. Plus, as Brian noticed after a while, he didn't seem to be waiting on the line. In a moment he was talking to some guy closer to the entrance, in the next he'd walked back to address someone else.

Intrigued by the unusual behavior, Brian stepped closer to the club's door. That's when the man turned around, their eyes met and Brian's heart stopped. He had a ten-day beard, and his hair was shorter, but Brian had had that face imprinted in his brain for years. It was _him_.

_Fuck! What's he doing here?_

Brian ran over the few steps that separated him from the door and grabbed the burly doorman's arm.

"Hey, see that guy? The one with the long, brown overcoat?" he urged.

The security guard looked to where he was pointing and frowned. "Sorry boss, can't see anyone like that."

"He's right there, by the..." Brian tried to locate the man again, but to no avail. He was gone. "Fuck!" Was he hallucinating? He hadn't even taken anything but a couple of drinks! Maybe he was going insane. He had to admit, there was a strong probability. Certainly stronger than that of finding someone like _him_ in a place like this.

"You want us to keep an eye out for someone with that appearance?" the doorman asked, noticing his distress.

"Yes. Yes I do," Brian said, his eyes still roaming the crowd. "He's a guy in his early twenties. Short, blondish hair, green eyes, a beard... Check everyone's ID carefully. His name is Chris Hobbs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo?... How was it? Good? Bad? Laughable? XD
> 
> Just go ahead and say it! ;) You can even say it's a poop, as long as you also say why is it a poop, so I can try and make it less of a poop! :P
> 
> Thanks for reading ;)


	4. Sonny Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many people will hate me in the end of this chapter :P. But bear with me, please! I promise that you'll begin liking me again soon enough! ;)

 

 

Melanie paced through the metallic maze made of all the chairs in the hospital's waiting room. Holding a restless, whiny Gus to her chest, she hummed a lullaby to calm him down as best as she could. Her heart clenched every time the boy let out a wheeze or a meek cough.

Lindsay approached, coming back from the front desk. "They say the doctor will see him any minute now. How is he?"

Melanie huffed in exasperation. "Well, he's not any better! What the hell are they doing? Can't they see that _we have a suffering child in here_?" She emitted the last words in a louder tone to make sure the receptionist listened to them.

Lindsay kissed her son's burning forehead, her worry bordering desperation now. "We should call Brian..." she considered, but in that moment a middle-aged woman in scrubs came to them from inside the hospital.

"Gus Peterson?" she called, looking at a clipboard in her hand.

"It's us," Lindsay said.

"I'm Dr. Garcia. Please, come with me," the doctor said, turning around and leading them inside in a fast paced stride. "I'm so sorry for the delay. It's been a crazy day. So, what seems to be the problem with Gus?" she asked, as soon as she got them into an observation room. To her credit, now that she got to call them, Dr. Garcia seemed quite efficient.

"He was seen in here on Friday, he'd caught a cold," Melanie hurried to explain.

"Here's what your colleague prescribed him," Lindsay said, handing the doctor a note retrieved from her purse.

"And you noticed no improvement with these?" the doctor asked, after studying the piece of paper.

"Well, he got a little better at first, but then he started to have trouble breathing, and today he had a fever..." Melanie said.

"Ok, let's take a look at him."

Melanie placed Gus in the examination table and the doctor verified the boy's temperature with an infrared thermometer, before palpating behind his jaw.

"Hum... He might have developed a secondary infection." Dr. Garcia considered. She held her stethoscope in front of Gus' eyes and talked to him, soothing. "You know this, don't you? I'm gonna use it to hear your lungs, ok? It feels a little cold, but it doesn't hurt."

The boy eyed the instrument for a second, then nodded.

"Ok, let's just pull your shirt up and..." the doctor stopped mid-sentence, staring at Gus's bare chest.

"Is something wrong?" Lindsay asked, anxious, getting closer to see what had muted the doctor.

"Huh... Do you know how he got this?" Dr. Garcia asked, stepping aside and lifting Gus's shirt a little higher to let the mothers see what she saw: a big purple bruise spreading over the right side of the boy's ribcage.

Lindsay gasped. "Oh my god! Honey, did you fall?"

"No," Gus said, shaking his little head.

Without a word, the doctor proceeded to remove the boy's shirt over his head and made a thorough examination of his arms and torso. She found a couple of other bruises.

"Doctor?..." Melanie uttered as, still silent, Dr. Garcia removed Gus' pants and observed his legs.

"I suppose you don't know how he got these, either?" the doctor asked, pointing two more purple blotches on Gus' shin, her brows raised.

Lindsay shook his head, confused. "No, he spent most of these days in bed, I don't see how..."

"Are you implying that we hit our son?" Melanie hissed, outraged.

Lindsay's eyes widened in realization. "We would never..."

"Please, calm down!" the doctor cut off, in a firm tone that managed to shut both women up. "I'm not implying anything."

As Mel and Linds observed in shocked silence, Dr. Garcia auscultated Gus' chest and back, checked his throat, the inside of his eyelids and put his clothes back on.

"Is he gonna be ok?" Lindsay asked, at last.

The doctor looked at her in a way that was anything but tranquilizing, before buttoning Gus' pants. "We'll see to it," she said, before addressing Gus. "There! You can go to your mommies now."

Lindsay picked the boy up from the examination table and followed the doctor, who gestured for Melanie and her to sit in front of her desk.

"Doctor, we don't know where those bruises came from, but I assure you that we're incapable of hurting Gus in any way!" she said, almost as plea.

Beside her, Melanie gasped. "Oh my god! Do you think your parents...?"

"Don't be absurd!" Lindsay protested, indignant. "They love him! And he loves them!"

"Ladies, please, let's not jump to conclusions," Dr. Garcia appeased them. "As I told you, I'm not, or ever was, suspicious of abuse. Unfortunately, I've witnessed my fair share of abuse cases and I don't think Gus is one of them."

Lindsay visibly relaxed at those words. Melanie didn't. "Well... what are you suspicious of, then?" she asked, uneasy.

Both women stared at the doctor in expectation but, instead of answering, she began scribbling in a prescription form before her. "I'm gonna need him to do some tests. A chest x-ray, and I'll have to draw some blood as well."

"Are those to look for the infection?" Mel asked, uneasy by the evasiveness of the physician.

"Yes. Among other things."

"What kind of other things?" Lindsay questioned, her anxiousness building up again.

"It's too soon to tell. I'll talk to you again when I have the test results," the doctor said.

Melanie laid a comforting hand on her wife's shoulder. "It's ok, baby. I'm sure that, whatever it is, Gus will be ok. Right, doctor?" She expected Dr. Garcia to respond to her smile with a tranquilizing one of her own, and say, 'Yes, of course he will!'

Instead, the doctor pressed her lips together and repeated, "It's too soon to tell."

 

 

Driving his Corvette home from work, Brian couldn't stop thinking about Chris Hobbs' fleeting appearance at Babylon in the past weekend.

That night, after warning the security guard on the door, he'd managed to spot a couple of the men Hobbs had been talking to and questioned them.

"He was looking for someone," one of them had said, his voice trailing. "Right, Rick?"

"What? Who?" his partner uttered, confused.

Considering the stench of weed coming from both of them, Brian had been surprised that the first one still remembered Hobbs previous presence at all. "The man with the beard? You said he was looking for someone...?" he'd helped, impatient.

"Oh, him! Yeah, he was looking for a guy," Rick said, nodding. "We didn't know him, though."

"Ok. What's this guy's name?"

"Huh... I'm sorry, which guy?"

Brian had had to summon every bit of self-control that he had left not to grab the guy’s collar and shake him until all the answers came out. "The guy that the bearded man asked you about! What was his name?"

"Right, his name! Huh..." Rick made a deep frown in a memory effort.

"I'm sorry, man," his partner said. "We're too high."

"I've noticed..." Brian muttered. He handed him his card. "Call me if you remember anything else."

The first man looked him from head to toe. "Sure, man."

"Call me _only_ if you remember anything else," Brian rephrased, stern.

The following nights, he'd been sure to put all the security personnel and the remaining members of the staff on high alert. He'd even distributed pictures of the bastard's face so they could recognize him if he decided to show up in a more discreet attire. Everyone had orders to keep him in place if he ever showed up again and call Brian right away.

As days went by without another sign of him, Brian was incapable of feeling relief. He sure didn’t want Hobbs anywhere near Babylon, but he needed to know. If he wasn’t there to go into the club, what was he up to? Who was he looking for?

As he parked his car, Brian wondered, and not for the first time, if he should tell Justin about this. Just like the previous times, he ended up deciding that there was no need to disturb him. In New York, Justin was thriving and, more importantly, safe. Brian had never felt happier that he was far away as he did in the last few days. Still, the part of his mind that was in permanent search for a reason for him to talk to Justin kept bringing it up.

He wouldn't give in.

Brian retrieved his mail and sifted through it while the elevator got him up to the loft. He'd gotten a couple of bills, his monthly report from the bank, a flyer with the menu of a nearby Asian restaurant and a thick yellow envelope with a fancy logo that most certainly contained advertising. The usual. He threw them on the coffee table as soon as he entered the loft and grabbed his cellphone to call someone in. Maybe that guy from the gym, the one who looked native-American. Exotic. Hot ass. Would do. Over the last couple of months, Brian had learned that it wasn't a good idea to be alone in the loft for too long. It felt empty.

"Hey! Is this James?" he asked when the man picked up. "Jake! Right... Brian Kinney. You can come over now."

He hung up, took his coat and shoes off, sat down on the couch and got busy opening his letters. One of the bills contained higher numbers than expected. Crap. The bank report did too! Good. Brian grabbed the Asian menu and skimmed through all the plates before picking his dinner.

Then, he took a better look at the yellow envelope. The logo was a sort of stylized sun and read Luxolis Gallery. He'd never heard of it. Inside, there was a pamphlet about a - _Fuck!_ \- painting exhibition in the upcoming weekend. There was also a letter.

 _Luxolis Gallery,_ Brian read, _has the pleasure of inviting Mr. Brian Kinney to attend our exhibition that will be taking place in..._

He smirked. To have the gallery send the invitation assured that Brian would at least open it... Clever.

Brian already knew one of the artists' name before reading the pamphlet, but he did it anyway and there it was, first in the row. Justin Taylor. In the back, there were pictures of each one of the painters beside their brief biographies.

Brian crumpled the pamphlet into a ball. He held it in both his hands for a second, then pulled at the corners to straighten it up again. As he read Justin's bio, a small smile pulled at his lips. He ran his thumb over the picture in order to smoothen the face he hadn't seen for too long.

Looking inside the envelope, Brian noticed that there was something inside besides the pamphlet and the letter. A guest ticket.

The bell rang.

Brian put the stack of open mail back on the coffee table and went to open the door to his guest. Jake, a fine specimen of original American, stepped inside and looked around. "Nice..."

Without needing further invitation, the man took his shirt off, displaying his sculpted, caramel colored torso, and threw himself onto the white couch, with an inviting smile.

"Not on the couch," Brian deadpanned.

"Why not?" Jake bounced on the cushions. "Looks comfy."

"Because I said so! Now, piss the fuck off!"

Instead of obeying, Jake leant back, grinning wider. "Ooh, bossy! What if I stay here? You gonna punish me?"

Brian clenched his jaw. This guy was getting on his nerves. Was he stupid? Why should everything he said be some kind of sex play? What had happened to those guys that got in, got fucked and got away with their mouths shut - unless they were required to do otherwise?

When Brian spoke again, his voice came out dangerously low. "Take your ass out of the fucking couch and get it on the fucking bed so I can fucking fuck it. Now!"

Jake's smile vanished and, whether he was intimidated or aroused, he did what he was told to, removing his pants in a swift gesture. Brian got rid of his clothes and followed him.

"On all fours, Lone Wolf," he ordered.

Unlike himself, Brian pounded the guy's ass mercilessly, not caring if he was hurting or enjoying it. He used him to get off and didn't bother to make him come, rolling away as soon as he was done with it.

"Wait, don't stop!" Jake begged, panting, but Brian was already getting rid of the condom, before searching the nightstand drawers for his pack of cigarettes.

"Hey, I'm not done yet!" the trick protested.

"Too bad," Brian said, leaning on the pillows and lighting a cigarette.

"So? Aren't you gonna do something about it?"

Brian scoffed. "Me? I don't think so. But you feel free to. Bathroom's over there."

Jake opened his mouth and closed it again, staring in outrage at the naked man before him. "I can't believe this!" he huffed. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Why all the fuss? I thought you wanted to be punished," Brian uttered sluggishly, tilting his head back to blow a cloud of smoke.

The trick jumped of the bed and grabbed his scattered clothes from the floor, putting them on with indignant jerks. "I'm out of here..." he muttered. “Asshole..."

Without so much as a twitch, Brian watched the man stride towards the door and heard it close behind him with an explosive _blam._ He took his time finishing the cigarette and headed for the shower, where he rubbed all the unpleasant stenches off of himself.

Fresh and clean, Brian dried his skin and, still naked, went to lay down on the couch, avoiding the area where Sitting Bull had sat his moronic - however nice - butt. Burying his face on the cushions, Brian inhaled, realizing that, two months passed, it would be a miracle if there was still anything left from _his_ scent.

 He raised his eyes to the yellow envelope on the coffee table.

 

 *             *             *

 

"Your paintings are so much better than the other guys' stuff!" Daphne chirped, as they looked at a canvas from one of the other artists' on the exhibition.

Justin chuckled. "You always say that!"

"Because it's always true!" she affirmed.

He rolled his eyes, amused. If he trusted everything his friends said about his works, his ego would be the size of... well, of Luxolis Gallery, which would be quite impressive. The building had enough capacity for his and two other artists' joint exhibition in the ground floor, plus to host a sculpture seminar upstairs, all in the same weekend.

“Hey, Justin!” Justin turned to see Colin coming around a couple of fancy dressed art admirers to approach them. “Wow! There’s _a lot_ of people in here!”

“Yeah, well… don’t get too excited,” Justin said. “There are a lot of guests for the opening. Those who actually have to pay won’t be so many.”

“Any news on a certain special guest?” Colin asked, raising his brows.

Daphne gasped. “You invited Brian? Is he coming?”

Justin shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not keeping my hopes up,” he lied. His hopes were high. Way too high.

Daphne gave him a sad look, and decided to change subjects. “How about your mother, and Molly?”

“They’ll come tomorrow. With _Tuck,_ ” Justin grumbled.

“Who’s Tuck?” Colin asked, curious about the disgruntled tone.

Daphne rolled her eyes, amused. “His mother’s boyfriend. Justin’s still trying to get over it. Poor baby!” she sneered.

Colin grimaced. “Oh. Is he that bad?”

“He’s not bad!” Daphne affirmed.

“He’s ok,” Justin admitted. “Only he’s, like, twenty-six.”

“Here we go again…” Daphne muttered. “So what?”

“It’s weird! He could have been her son!”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Colin intervened. “But didn’t you tell me that Brian was twelve years older than you are?”

“Yes! Thank you!” Daphne exclaimed.

“That’s different!” Justin said.

“How so?” Colin asked, amused.

“Oh, he’s just being a sexist hypocrite,” Daphne stated. “…who thinks that a mature woman like his mother doesn’t have the same right to be with a younger hottie as a mature man like Brian does.”

“Brian’s not a mature man!” Justin objected, as Colin laughed out loud. “Besides, he couldn’t have been my father.”

“That depends of how precocious he was,” Colin considered. “When _I_ was twelve, I…”

“Ew, I don’t wanna know!” Justin protested with an amused grimace.

“Oh, I do!” Daphne affirmed.

“Justin?”

The three of them turned around to find Mary, the exhibition attendant. For a terrible moment, Justin thought they would be scolded for arguing like children in the middle of a respectable art gallery, but the chubby woman had a smile on her face. “One of our guests is very interested in _Missing_ ,” she said, referring to one of Justin’s paintings. “He’d like to meet the artist.”

“Oh, ok. Who’s he?” Justin asked.

“Well, I don’t know _everybody_ who’s invited by the Gallery,” Mary pointed out. “I’d love to know _him_ , though. He’s handsome!” she murmured, wiggling her brows.

Justin smiled, before a sudden epiphany hit him. He looked at Daphne, whose widened eyes and excited smile told him that they were thinking the exact same thing. “Come on, go to him!” she urged, pushing him towards Mary.

As he followed the attendant to the contiguous room, Justin’s heart pounded hard against his ribcage. Could it really be _him_?

“There he is,” Mary said. She pointed the place where the gallery had hanged the painting _Missing_ and Justin’s eyes followed, eager. The man observing the canvas was, indeed, handsome… for someone whose blond-brown hair was beginning to gray. Justin had never seen him before.

“Justin, this is the gentleman I told you about,” Mary said, as they approached the man, who greeted them with a toothy grin. “This is Justin Taylor, the author of the painting.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Taylor. My name is Joshua Harris.” Justin shook the man’s hand, trying not to let his crushing disappointment show. Harris had gentle green eyes and a bit of an absent-minded professor aura. Justin liked him. “I must confess that I’ve never heard of you before today but now… I‘m surprised that I haven’t!”

Justin smiled at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“This, in particular…” Harris said, pointing the canvas. “Can you believe I’ve been staring at it for the past forty-five minutes?”

“Actually, I can,” Justin said, amused.

“It’s just… Overall, it looks so dynamic and optimistic and… young,” Harris considered, admiring the painting. “But then there’s this small area here… we almost miss it but when he see it… It’s tighter, darker, and although it’s small, there’s this sense that it’s… looming over everything else, threatening to spread over it! I get all kinds of mixed feelings from this painting, it’s… really intriguing.”

“I’m glad it interests you,” Justin said, stretching his polite smile. He didn’t like much when people began to overanalyze his works. They could try all they wanted - sometimes they got pretty close too - but no one would ever understand what he thought or felt as he painted.

Justin was startled when the man let out a good-natured chuckle. “And all in all, I still can’t tell what’s _Missing_. But it certainly isn’t your talent,” Harris said. He gestured with this thumb towards the canvas, smiling. “You’ll be missing this, though, because I’m taking it with me.”

Justin’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Thanks, Mr. Harris.”

“Oh, I should be the one thanking you,” the man said, eyes glued to the painting again. “For sharing this. And…” he peeked at Justin. “…whatever it is that you’re missing, I hope you can get it back.”

 

 

“What a jerk, not coming to your exhibition when you invited him and all!” Daphne ranted, while she prepared her makeshift bed on the studio’s floor. “When I go back to Pittsburgh, I’ll punch his face in!”

“Don’t get your tits in a twist over it, Daph,” Justin said, gloomy, handing her a couple of pillows, before throwing himself on his own bed. “It was to be expected. We didn’t even talk to each other for the last two months…”

“I’m sorry that he didn’t come, man,” Colin said. “Maybe you should really go to Pittsburgh and try to see him.”

Sprawled on his back, Justin stared at the ceiling, feeling a weird twitch inside his chest. “Or maybe I should stop trying… Maybe he got over it already, and I’m just making a fool out of myself…” he considered, desolated.

Daphne was about to protest, but a loud _ring_ coming from Justin’s laptop cut her off.

“Must be Michael,” Justin mumbled, dragging himself out of the bed to sit at the desk next to the window.

When he picked up, the first image appearing on screen was the cover that he’d created for the new issue of _Rage_ , this time newly printed. “Nice,” he commented, and the comic book was set aside to reveal its author’s face behind it.

“Ready to fly of the shelves on Monday!” Michael announced. “I’ll send you a copy.” Justin thought that he sounded less cheery than usual. Maybe it was because of the late hour.

“Actually, make that… five,” Justin asked. “And it would be nice if you could send a few copies of the first issues too."

Michael raised his brows in interrogation.

"I have a couple of business meetings next week," Justin informed, boastful. "Gotta present some samples."

“Oh, those stores you talked about… So they really are interested?” Michael asked.

"Yep! At least they’re very eager to check it out!” Justin smiled, expecting an explosion of excitement from his co-worker.

All he got was a small, distracted smile. “Cool. That’s great.” Michael said, as someone who isn't all that interested.

Justin frowned. “Are you ok?”

“What, me? Yeah, I’m fine! How about you? How was your exhibition?” Michael asked, diverting the subject not-so-subtly.

“It was… ok. Pretty good… you know…” Justin said, dismissively.

“I’m sure it was great,” Michael said, with an amused smile.

“Could’ve been much better…” Justin grumbled, in spite of himself.

“That asshole best friend of yours didn’t show up,” Daphne added, sitting beside Justin.

Michael pressed his lips together. “Don’t be like that, guys,” he said, appeasing. “Brian’s really… he really couldn’t go, ok?”

“Why not?” Justin and Daphne asked in unison, only while she sounded demanding, he was worried. Something in the way Michael spoke didn’t sound good.

“He… huh… He went… he went on a trip,” Michael stuttered.

“A trip…” Justin uttered, sounding anything but convinced.

“He went to Toronto,” Michael confessed, at last. 

“Oh, he went to see Gus?”

“Yeah…” Michael confirmed, still looking oddly uncomfortable.

Justin eyed him with suspicion. “Ok, what’s wrong?” he demanded.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked, trying to evade the question.

Justin leant closed to the screen, impatient. “Michael, you’ve been acting weird since the beginning of this conversation, and now… why would you avoid telling me that Brian went to Toronto if there wasn’t something up?”

Daphne stared at the screen in expectation, and even Colin, noticing Justin’s distressed tone, stopped what he was doing to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Michael fidgeted with the brand new comic book in his hands as he looked back at them like a deer in headlights. “Justin I… it’s not my place to tell you…”

“Fuck, Michael, you’re freaking me out! Just spill it already!” Justin urged.

Michael took a deep breath, and didn’t try to hide it anymore. His next words came out pained. “It’s Gus…”

“What’s with him? He’s he ok?” Justin asked, a terrible feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

“No… he’s not ok, Justin,” Michael said, lowering his eyes. “Gus, he… he has leukemia.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're not too mad at me!... 
> 
> To appease the restless spirits, I will make an announcement: the reunion we've all been waiting for will happen in the next chapter! As for the circumstances and results of that event... You'll have to wait and see! ;)


	5. I'm onto you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who were too traumatized with the ending of the previous chapter, I recommend you to try this one. Trust me! Despite everything, I think you might like it ;)

 

From inside the plane, Justin watched the nighttime lights of Toronto approaching below him, dimming under the incoming dawn. The feeling of unreality invading him when Michael had uttered those dreadful words wasn’t entirely gone. He’d felt lost, almost numb, but one thing had been clear to him right then: he had to get to Toronto as soon as he could.

Justin hadn’t slept that night. He hadn’t even tried. After booking a trip in the first flight available, he’d thrown a few clothes into a backpack and spent the next half-hour pacing back and forth under Daphne and Colin’s uneasy gazes. Then he’d sat at the computer and searched for every information on childhood leukemia that he was able to absorb. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d changed, called a cab and left for the airport, even though it was way too early for his flight.

As the plane landed outside Toronto’s Pearson International Airport, Justin wondered if he should call Lindsay before just showing up. He concluded he wouldn’t know what to say over the phone anyway. Not that he had any idea of what to say in person, but he'd figure it out as he went.

After disembarking and going through the passport check, Justin jogged along the airport towards the exit. The freezing morning air hit him like a slap in the face when he crossed the doors to get outside. He retrieved a crumpled piece of paper from his jeans pocket - he'd wrote down the name of the hospital that Michael had given him - and headed for the line of cabs not far ahead.

The drive felt like the longest thirty minutes of Justin's life, but at last he found himself entering Toronto Western Hospital. The place was fairly quiet at that early hour. He approached the front desk, behind which a young woman filled some forms.

"Excuse me," Justin said, leaning on the counter.

The woman turned her attention to him and smiled. "Good morning. How can I help you?"

"I'm here to see a boy named Gus. Peterson."

"Gus... Peterson," the receptionist enunciated as she typed the words on the computer. Her smile faltered a little when the data appeared on the screen. "What's your relation with the patient?"

"Huh... I'm a friend."

"Ok. And your name?"

"Justin Taylor."

"Wait just a minute, Mr. Taylor," the receptionist said, before walking to the back of her working area to make a phone call. Justin couldn't quite make out her words from where he stood but, even though the woman smiled at him in reassurance as she spoke, the situation was making him nervous. Was this standard procedure for every visitor, or was there something wrong?

The receptionist came back to her seat and smiled at him. "You can go up now." Justin let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

Following the indications that the woman gave him, Justin found the right aisle. He walked along corridors, checking door numbers and peeking inside rooms.

"Justin?" Lindsay's voice made him turn around to find her standing outside one of the doors that he must have missed. Her eyes were swollen from crying and lack of sleep, but she made a small smile. Justin walked into her open arms and hugged her. "God, I couldn't believe it when they told me you were down there!" she said.

"I came as soon as I knew. How is he?" Justin asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

"He's asleep now," Lindsay said. Justin followed her when she stepped inside the room in silence. His heart clenched when he laid eyes on Gus. The last time he'd seen him, he was an energetic, playful child. He was asleep now, yet he didn't look tranquil. He was pale and his breathing was a little ragged. Laying in that huge hospital bed, the boy looked so small, so frail. The IV line going into his arm only made it scarier.

"They're trying to control the infection," Lindsay explained, after they left the room again to avoid disturbing Gus. "So he can be transferred and begin with the chemo. He’s getting a little better, but… but he…” her voice faltered, his eyes watered and she covered her mouth, trying to keep a flood of sobs at bay.

Justin held her again, blinking back his own tears. Lindsay sobbed silently on his shoulder for a long while as they stood on the corridor. When her sobs turned into sniffling, she released him, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry, darling, I just…” She managed a smile. “Thank you so much for coming all the way here. Gus will love to see you when he wakes up. He’s even asked Brian to bring you along!”

Justin smiled at that. At least some people would be happy to see him. Some others, he wasn’t quite sure. “So… where’s Brian?” he asked, looking around in nervous expectation, hoping to see him turn the nearest corner.

“Oh, I pretty much had to kick him out of the hospital a couple of hours ago. He’s been here more than twenty four hours straight, he needed to get some rest.”

“How... is he?” Justin asked, tentative.

Lindsay pressed her lips together. “Not good, but that was to be expected. He… didn’t speak much,” she evaded.

Justin didn’t like that. “Where is he now? Is he staying at your place?”

“Oh, I wanted him to.” She rolled her reddened eyes with a small smile. “But he preferred the Ritz-Carlton. Can’t exactly blame him. It’s much closer to the hospital too,” she admitted.

Justin frowned. He didn’t like the idea of Brian being by himself in this situation. Peeking at the tiny boy sleeping inside the room, Justin felt his heart ache for him. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what his parents felt.

Lindsay laid a hand on his shoulder. “Gus is asleep now. Mel is with J.R., but she’ll be back here in no time. If you want to check on him, go. I’d be much more at ease if I knew that he’s with you.”

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, Justin went through the front doors of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. The hall looked like a huge, luxurious, modernly decorated living room. Wood and white couches and armchairs, paintings on the walls, sculptures, flower arrangements and an impressive chandelier. He couldn’t even spot the reception area right away. Only by walking further in did he found the two polished wooden counters.

“How can I help you, sir?” the impeccably dressed concierge asked from behind one of them. His strained smile succeeded in making Justin feel out of place. He was sure that not many of their clients showed up wearing jeans, a sweater and a backpack.

“I’m looking for a Mr. Brian Kinney. I was told he was staying here. Is he in?”

The man eyed him up and down, before checking his computer. “Indeed, he is. May I ask what your business with Mr. Kinney is?”

Justin could’ve made up something to satisfy the stuck-up jerk, but he wasn’t worth the effort, so he gave him an empty smile. “I’m his lover. Can I come up to talk to him, please?”

The man’s befuddled face was priceless. “Oh… Well… I’ll have to call him first. Would you give me your name, please?”

“Justin Taylor,” he said, wondering how many more times that day he had to go through this identification process.

When the concierge picked the phone to call Brian’s room, Justin thought that, considering how firm on avoiding him Brian had been for the last two months, he should have given a different name. Michael’s, maybe.

He was already making plans to camp in the hall until Brian decided to come down when the concierge hung up the phone. “You may come up,” he announced, to Justin’s surprise.

 

 

Only when Brian heard a knock on the door did he realize that standing up didn’t come as easy as before he’d downed that bottle of Jim Beam. Fortunately, the hotel took its mission of luxury very seriously – the suite had arm chairs and little decorative tables scattered everywhere – so he had enough leverage to drag himself from the couch to the door in relative safety.

Brian had felt mild surprise when they called saying there was a Justin Taylor asking to come up. He didn't think he'd asked for one.

He'd decided a while ago that he wouldn't get anymore tricks or hustlers who looked too much like Justin. He wouldn't keep doing that to himself. It was too painful. Even when he could pretend for a second that the man under him was a different one, in the end he had to look at his face, and that was when it hurt the most.

This time, he couldn't even remember how he'd come up with someone, but that just tended to happen whenever he used the magical powder. It was the point of using it – to forget.

And, well, since he was already here...

Brian opened the door and turned around, trying to make his way back through the decorative tables’ path. “Come in and close the door,” he drawled.

Justin slid inside and did as he was told. His breath caught when he laid eyes on Brian, wearing only a wife beater over his pants, in spite of the low temperature in the room. He was actually a little sweaty, his bangs sticking to his forehead. Justin was amazed by how gorgeous he could be, even with glazed eyes and wasted out of his mind.

Brian might look good, but the empty bottle of bourbon on the coffee table wouldn’t fool anyone. However, what made Justin uneasy was the small plastic packet beside the bottle. It was empty, and there was no way to tell what its content had been.

Brian sat down on the armrest of the couch and laid eyes on his visitor for the first time. He squinted, then blinked, not trusting his eyes. “Fuck, you look just like him! You guys are getting better and better,” he commented, impressed. He pulled another little packet from his pocket, this one filled with a yellowy powder, and studied it. “Or maybe this shit is just that good. Or that bad,” he considered frowning.

“Brian, what the fuck have you been taking?” Justin hissed.

Brian chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “You sound just like him too! This shit is _really_ good.” He retrieved a second bottle of Jim Beam from among the cushions and took a swig from it.

“No, this is _really_ me, I’m not a fucking hallucination!” Justin said, exasperated, stepping closer to Brian and snatching the packet and the bottle from him.

“Hey!” Brian protested, and tried to get them back, but his arms seemed to weight several tons, so he could only watch as that blond guy laid the bottle down on the coffee table and came to stand in front of him again. God, did he look like him. And talked like him, and moved like him, and... "Justin?" Brian murmured, afraid of believing in what he saw.

Justin gave him a small smile. "It's me."

Brian squinted and raised a hand to touch Justin's face, but then the room started spinning and he fell back on the couch.

“Fuck! Brian?” Justin kneeled beside him, sweeping his hair back from his face. Brian grunted. “What do you feel? What the fuck is this?” he asked, wagging the packet in Brian’s face.

Brian grinned at him like a fool. “Hello, Sunshine!” he said. His eyes rolled a little and he curled up with a whine.

Justin had seen Brian high a lot of times. Almost as many as the one’s he’d seen him drunk. To be fair, most of those times he was high _and_ drunk. But he used to keep a semblance of control. He knew what his body could take, and when to stop. This time… Justin had never seen him this wasted before, talking complete nonsense, unable to control his own movements, almost agonizing. This time he hadn’t wanted to stop.

“Brian, look at me. Look at me!” Justin urged, cupping Brian’s cheeks. “Is this K? How much did you take?"

“Some…” he uttered, rolling away from Justin’s hands and trying to sit upright.

“’ _Some_ ’?” Justin gasped, running his hands through his hair, before helping Brian into a sitting position. "Fuck! You know you can't do this shit with alcohol!"

"Don't tell me what I can't do," Brian grunted, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

Justin ignored Brian's rudeness. He was too worried about the harm he might have caused himself. "How did you take it? When?" he demanded.

"About half an hour ago..." Brian said, head back, staring at the ceiling. "I swallowed it." He chuckled. "You love when I swallow it, don't you, Sunshine?"

"Good," Justin said, ignoring the last words. "Then we might still be on time. Come on." He threw Brian's arm around his own neck and held him by the waist, trying to make him stand up.

"What are you doing?" Brian slurred, even though he didn't resist when Justin pulled him to his feet.

"You're going to 'unswallow' it." Justin stated. "The K and all that alcohol you tried to drown yourself into."

"What?" Brian drawled, letting himself be dragged through the bedroom towards the bathroom.

"Go on. Throw up," Justin ordered, supporting Brian over the toilet.

Brian scrunched his face. "I don't wanna throw..." He couldn't finish the sentence as a wave of nausea came over him and, next thing, he was kneeling on the shiny floor of the luxurious bathroom, puking the liquid contents of his stomach into the impeccably clean and polished toilet.

Justin held Brian's hair back and rubbed his back while he retched, until there was nothing else to throw out and he was just dry heaving. Even so, as Brian got weaker from the effort, the nausea wouldn't stop.

Justin decided he'd already been too compliant. "I'm gonna call 911." He tried to stand up but Brian grabbed his arm with surprising strength, keeping him from going away.

"No!" he breathed.

"Brian, I'm not going to stand aside and watch as you succeed in poisoning yourself!" Justin protested. He was nervous, furious and scared to death.

Brian's hand didn't loosen its hold. "I didn't take that much. I'm not dying from this," he affirmed, his eyes boring intently into Justin's as the younger man studied his face, guarded. "I promise!"

Justin fell on his knees again, both relieved and concerned.

Brian tried to smile, but the sickening feeling came back and he began to dry heave again.

"Fuck..." Brian uttered, panting over the toilet lid.

When the nausea eased, he sat back and leant on the wall with his eyes closed.

Justin grabbed some toilet paper and kneeled in front of him. "Feel any better?" he asked as he wiped Brian's mouth.

"Better than I'm gonna feel in a while... When what's left of it wears out." Brian grumbled. “When I remember… that I decided to have a child only to be absent from his life and, as if that was not enough, I gave him… _fucking…_ cancer…” he uttered, tiredly.

“Don’t say that!” Justin exclaimed, horrified, realizing where all the self-destructive behavior came from. “You didn’t make Gus sick! I’ve read that there’s no relation between childhood leukemia and parents having other types of cancer.”

“Yeah, that’s what the doctors said,” Brian admitted, his speech slurred.

“See?”

“But I don’t believe them,” Brian declared, with the emptiest of grins. “Neither does Melanie, for that matter.”

“She told you that?” Justin asked, shocked.

“She told Lindsay. I overheard them… They were fighting over it. Mel said I should have never been the father of their child. And she was right.” Brian scoffed. “Kinney fathers are all the same: absent jerks and family wreckers!”

Justin let out a sad sigh. “Brian, that’s not true. You’re a good father. You’re just drunk, and drugged, and you need to rest so you can be there for Gus. He needs you, now.”

Brian just stared back at him in silence his eyes wide, glazed, vulnerable, as if he was begging for those words to be true.

“Come on, I help you to bed.”

Justin helped Brian stand up and dragged him towards the king-size bed. He averted the fluffy covers and carefully laid him down.

“On your stomach, come on,” Justin ordered softly, pushing him to roll over.

“Trying to take advantage while I’m down, Sunshine?” Brian mumbled against the pillow.

Justin smiled. “As if I’d need that. I’m trying to keep you from choking on your own vomit.”

“Mentioning ‘vomit’ doesn’t help,” Brian pointed out.

“I’m sorry,” Justin said. He adjusted the covers over him and went to pull the curtains over the full wall window.

“Don’t go,” Brian pleaded, almost in a whisper.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” Justin assured. He removed his jeans and sneaked inside the bed next to Brian, who turned his head to look at him. Draping his arm over him, Justin rubbed comforting circles on his back.

Brian stared at Justin until he was sure that he really was staying. Then he closed his eyes. “I’ve missed you,” he sighed.

Justin smiled. “I’ve missed you too.”

 

 

When Brian woke up in the dark hotel room after sleeping twelve hours straight, he recalled only bits and pieces of the previous morning events. He remembered the most important part, though. He groped the bed beside him, hopeful, but there was no one in there. He rubbed his face. He’d always suspected that the whole thing had been the K playing tricks on his mind. It had been nice, though.

Brian forced himself off the bed. He had no idea what time it was, but he had to go back to the hospital. Even though he still felt weak and lightheaded, most of the intoxication effects seemed to be gone.

He pulled the wife beater over his head, leaving it in a heap on the floor, and headed to the shower, unbuttoning his fly on the way. Only when he opened the bathroom’s door did Brian notice the sound of running water. Then, his gaze landed on the shower stall and he froze. It briefly occurred to him that he might still be high on K, but this time he knew he wasn’t. Everything was too clear.

The walls of the stall were made of translucent glass, so Brian could see him, all of him, as the water drenched his beautiful blond hair, running down his slender frame, over the fair skin of his back and his delicious bubble butt before falling at his feet. Who wouldn’t?

When Justin followed the slight movement detected by his peripheral vision, he was unprepared for what he found. Brian was leaning on the doorframe, shirtless, staring at him in a daze. A bulging hard-on was noticeable through his boxer briefs, pressing against his half unbuttoned fly.

Justin turned his back on Brian to hide his immediate reaction and turned off the water, grabbing the nearest white towel to wrap around his waist.

“You’re awake!” he said with an uncertain smile, stepping out of the shower. “I thought that you wouldn’t mind if I used…” He was cut off by Brian walking up to him and pulling him close, one hand on his back, another on the back of his head, holding Justin tight against him. After the initial surprise, Justin responded in kind, burying his face on Brian’s shoulder. It had been too long and this felt unbelievably good. He couldn’t quite describe the sensation, but it had something of relief in it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Brian asked, his voice husky.

“I’m doing what I can: loving you,” Justin murmured.

Brian nuzzled his neck and inhaled on his skin, before cupping his cheeks and leaning his forehead on Justin’s, his eyes hinting on a smile. Justin’s breath caught when he though Brian was about to kiss him, but then he pulled away.

Brian knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once their lips touched. It was difficult enough as it was.

“You’re crazy,” Brian stated in a somewhat tender tone. “Now, get off. I want to shower too.”

Resigned, Justin stepped towards the door. He wasn’t expecting it to be that easy anyway. He looked back one last time. “By the way, I threw your vitamin K down the drain.”

“You did _what_?” Brian snapped. “Do you have any idea of how much that cost me?”

“I do,” Justin stated. “And I think you should spend your money on something more useful. Besides, it’s not like you’d be using it again. Right?” he dared.

Brian looked at him in disbelief for a moment. “Right.” He ended up saying.

Justin grinned. “Great!” He removed the towel from around his waist and began drying his hair with it, enjoying the way Brian’s eyes raked his naked body up and down, before turning around and getting out of the bathroom.

 

 

 

“Brian Kinney. I’m the father,” Brian said to the receptionist of the hospital, this time a man.

“It checks,” he said, consulting the computer, before turning to Justin. “And you, sir, are…?”

Justin sighed. It was the third time in the same day. “Justin Taylor,” he pointed Brian. “I’m his lover.”

The way Brian’s head snapped to look at him in disbelief made the receptionist stifle a laugh. “Right. I see that you’ve been here before. You can come up,” the man said, amused.

“Since when are you my lover?” Brian asked, as they ascended in the elevator, staring ahead intently.

“Well, considering that I love you, I think it’s only accurate to call myself ‘your lover’, don’t you think?” Justin pointed out.

Brian looked at him, and Justin looked back, his brows raised. Brian was about to come up with some kind of retort – he just didn’t know what it would be – when the automated doors parted before them and Justin strode ahead of him towards Gus’ room.

This time, the boy was awake, accompanied by both his mothers and his little sister. He gasped when they walked in side by side. “Justin!” the boy exclaimed, making everybody laugh.

“So young and already knows who’s worth celebrating,” Melanie remarked.

“It’s nice to know that our presence is appreciated,” Brian said, amused.

“Oh, I like you too, Da,” Gus assured.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Brian said, smiling.

“Hey, there kiddo. How’s it going?” Justin greeted, kissing the boy’s forehead.

“I’m fine,” the kid said, in the grumpy tone of someone who’s had enough of the same question.

He did look a little better than before. Maybe it was because he was awake now, and the physical sickness didn’t seem to be affecting his mood. Children were, indeed, quite resilient, Justin though, watching Gus throwing his little arms around Brian’s neck.

“Justin, do you have a place to stay already?” Melanie asked, cradling J.R. in her arms. “You can stay in our house.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll have to accept it, at least for tonight,” he said.

“What do you mean, ‘at least for tonight’?” Brian intervened. “Don’t you have a job to go back to?”

“I took the week off. Said it was a family emergency.”

“And they bought it?” Brian scoffed.

“It’s the truth,” Justin retorted.

“What about that big exhibition of yours?”

“They have the paintings, they don’t need me.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

Everyone else in the room, who’d been watching the conversation as if it was a tennis match, turned their widened eyes to Justin in expectation.

“What boyfriend?” Justin asked, honestly puzzled.

“The one who… walks around your place half naked and… goes out to have lunch with you,” Brian said, somewhat realizing the absurdity of his words as he uttered them.

Justin puffed. “Michael told you that? That I had a boyfriend?”

“Sort of,” Brian admitted.

“Well, I don’t! The guy he saw in my place is my roommate, so he kind of has the right to walk around in whatever amount of clothing he wants. Also, he’s straight, so he’d hardly be my boyfriend.”

Brian stared at him in silence, absorbing the new information, and Justin saw his vulnerable side once again for a second. Then he looked away. “Still, you should go back. I’m sure you have plenty of important thinks to do back in New York.”

“As I told you before, I have something important to do right here,” Justin retorted. “You won’t push me away, Brian.”

“Mommy says pushing people is bad,” Gus said, pointedly.

Brian had to smile at that, and stroked the little boy’s head. “Your mommy’s right, sonny boy.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming this far! As always, I'd love to know what you think! ;)


	6. Because we want to

 

"So, how's been life with the munchers?" Brian asked, as he drove Lindsay's car to the airport.

On the passenger’s seat, Justin shrugged. "Fine. I've been helping around so I don't feel like a nuisance. I've also stayed with J.R. a couple of times. Like that they can both spend time with Gus at the same time."

"Oh, so that's why Melanie's been around more in the last couple of days. I thought she was finally taking a liking to me."

Justin scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you'll be relieved from your babysitting duties now that Mikey's here," Brian commented.

As the dedicated friend he was, Michael had closed the comic book store to come to Toronto and take care of his daughter - and Brian. Lindsay and Melanie hadn't been able to refuse. Gus had already been transferred and would begin with the chemotherapy the next day.

"Oh, I don't mind it at all. J.R.'s great," Justin said.

Brian pressed his lips in a sort of smile. "Right! I had forgotten about your fatherly streak."

The younger man stared down at his own lap and Brian instantly regretted his words. He'd never wanted to guilt trip Justin.

"Must be why Gus is so fond of you," Brian added.

Justin made a slow smile at that. "No, that's because I like to doodle with him, unlike you cranky old people."

Brian smiled back.

The last couple of days, Justin had spent a lot of time with Brian, mainly in the hospital with Gus. After that first evening, Brian hadn't tried to push him away, but he hadn't pulled him in either. He accepted some physical contact, like an arm around the shoulders, or a hug and he even responded at times, but that was all. Justin had never tried anything else - it wasn't the time or the place - but even so, Brian got his message across loud and clear: that was all there was or ever would be between them.

Justin was still determined to make it change, but in the meantime, he was happy that he could spend the afternoons playing with Gus and Brian. Too bad it was in the unpleasant environment of a hospital.

Picking up Michael from the airport was a welcome change in scenery.

It was the middle of the afternoon so, when Brian drove inside the underground parking lot of the airport, he could only find a spot to park in one of the lower levels.

As Brian turned off the engine, Justin stepped out of the vehicle and looked around, uneasy. Very few cars occupied this level. It was quiet, deserted. Justin wasn't very fond of quiet, deserted parking lots. His heart began to hammer inside his chest and he ran a hand through his head, uncomfortable. Then a gentle arm came around his shoulders and he found Brian beside him.

"Let's go?" he said, and Justin knew that he understood what was happening inside his head.

Justin nodded and put an arm around Brian's waist. Sometimes he forgot that Brian had been _there_ too, that he'd gone through everything with him. He felt moved that Brian was trying to reassure him.

Only Brian knew that he was also trying to reassure himself, holding Justin to make sure he was here, safe and sound.

They had to wait for a while in the arrivals area before Michael showed up, dragging a huge suitcase behind him.

"God, is he moving in here for good?" Justin wondered, amused.

"He probably brought one of Professor's books to read in bed," Brian suggested. "It wouldn't fit in his carry-on luggage."

Michael didn't even acknowledge their amusement as he walked to them, teary-eyed, and threw himself at Brian in a rib-crushing hug.

"God, Brian... I'm so, so sorry!"

Brian hugged him back, patting his back in a somewhat absent manner. "Yeah, who isn't?"

Michael pulled back, grabbing Brian's shoulders. "I'm... This is... so terrible! I can't... I don't even know what to say!" he stuttered, before hugging his friend again.

Justin watched everything play before his eyes, slack-jawed.

"In those cases it's always better not to say anything," Brian pointed out. "I'm gonna get the car and try to pick you up at the front. It's easier for you to bring Professor's book. I mean, your luggage."

He turned his back on them, retrieved a cigarette from inside his  leather jacket and walked towards the elevators while lighting it, ignoring all the 'No-Smoke' signs. Michael stared after him with wide, watery eyes.

Justin waited for Brian to be out of earshot before blowing off. "What the hell, Michael?"

"What?" Michael uttered, at a loss.

"Don't you think you could've... toned down the drama a bit?”

Michael's eyes widened in outrage. "How can you say that? Gus is very sick! He can die!"

"Don't you think Brian knows that? Do you need to remind him by acting as if his son was already dead? Jesus!" Justin hissed.

Michael lowered his eyes, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to... I just..."

"Gus doesn't need you to cry for him. He needs your support, not your pity. And so do his parents." Justin declared. "And, Brian might be used to your shit, but Mel and Linds aren't, so either you put yourself together or you better turn around and catch the next flight back."

Michael stared at him in bewilderment, before rubbing his face. "But this... I just... I feel so lost! I wanted to do something, but there's nothing I can do, and..."

"You can be there for them. That's something you can do," Justin said, appeasing. "Now let's go. Brian must be waiting outside already."

He was. As soon as they stepped out of the automated doors, they spotted Lindsay's car at the head of a line of honking vehicles. They ran towards it as fast as they could. Justin had to help Michael in hoisting his suitcase inside the trunk, before they threw themselves onto their seats.

"You took your sweet time!" Brian mumbled around the cigarette in his mouth, as he drove off.

"Sorry. I'm not used to you being this fast," Justin retorted.

Brian smirked while exhaling the smoke.

Michael watched them in disbelief. How could they act so normal, joking around in such a tragic situation? Brian should be...

He felt bad as soon as his expectations slapped him the face. Brian should be what? Drowning in booze? Sniffing weird cocktails? Crawling half-conscious in a club somewhere? Was the dimness in his eyes not enough?

Michael realized that Justin was right. Gus' illness had already turned Brian's world upside down. Their only job now, he thought, was to keep it as steady as possible, as normal as possible, as hopeful as possible.

Michael took a deep breath to calm his boiling emotions and leaned forward, in between the front seats. "So, where are you guys staying?"

"Hotel," Brian replied.

"I'm staying with Mel and Linds," Justin said.

"Oh... So you're not together?" Michael murmured, confused.

"No, we're not together," Brian enunciated. A tense silence settled after his words.

Realizing he'd brought up a touchy subject, Michael tried to divert the conversation. "So Justin, I get that you didn't go those meetings... with the comic book guys?"

"What meetings?" Brian asked.

"Oh, Justin's been trying to sell Rage in New York. He'd scheduled a couple of meetings, but since he came here...huh..." Michael interrupted himself when he noticed the glare Justin was throwing at him through the rearview mirror.

"You told me that you weren't missing anything," Brian deadpanned, addressing Justin.

"I'm not. I postponed them," Justin affirmed.

“Oh, well… that must have given a hell of a first impression,” Brian scoffed.

Justin sighed. “Listen, Brian, this is none of your business. If someone was to reprove of my actions on this _Rage_ issue, that would be Michael. He’s my partner, not you.”

Brian just tightened his lips and said nothing else, but the car ride became faster and more turbulent from then on.

Michael leaned back on his seat, wishing there was some place he could hide in and regretting he’d ever opened his mouth.

The tension among them vanished when they arrived at the hospital and found Gus up. His new room had a playing area on the floor beside the bed and he was sitting there in his pajamas, building something with Melanie out of Lego blocks. His hair was much shorter now. One of the nurses had suggested they’d give Gus a buzz cut before he started the chemo, so it wouldn’t be as impactful when he actually began to lose hair.

“Da! Look what I made!” Gus announced, raising in his small hand a mass of colorful blocks stuck together.

“What a cool airplane!” Brian commented.

Gus giggled. “It’s a dog.”

“Right! How could I miss it?” Brian crouched beside him and caressed his head. “I like your new hairstyle.”

Gus pouted. “My head is cold.”

“It’s a little weird in the beginning, but then you get used to it,” Justin assured, sitting beside the boy.

“I told him you’d used your hair like this a while ago,” Melanie said. “He didn’t believe me.”

“Oh, it’s true,” Justin confirmed.

“He looked like a total badass,” Brian added.

Gus gasped and covered his little mouth, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Brian feigned embarrassment. “Oh, no! I said _ass_ again, didn’t I?”

Gus laughed even more, infecting everyone else in the room.

Melanie rolled her eyes. “Now, that’s enough, Brian,” she said, although amused.

“Hey, come see who’s here,” Brian said, picking Gus up to show him Michael.

They all hanged out in there for as long as they could. Michael had brought Gus a toy robot, and Brian helped them in trying to assemble it. However, as the time to leave for the night approached, Brian became more and more gloomy and went out for a cigarette.

Justin’s uneasy gaze followed him as he left the room. He knew what was distressing Brian. Gus would begin the chemo the next day, and he knew better than anyone else in that room how it felt to go through something like that. He’d had to deal with radiation therapy himself.

After Brian left, Justin stepped closer to Melanie, who was sitting in one of the room’s armchairs. She looked extremely tired, with large bags under her eyes, but she managed to smile as she watched her son playing with Michael.

“Listen, Mel… I was wondering…” Justin began, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since Michael’s here now to help you with J.R., I…”

“Say no more,” she cut off, raising her hand. “You’re not our stay-in babysitter, Justin. You can stay whenever you like and leave whenever you like. And also come back whenever you like.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks!”

Melanie peeked at the door, through where Brian had just left and shook her head. “I will never comprehend why you still bother but… I guess that not even Brian deserves to be alone in a moment like this.”

Justin made a lopsided smile. He still resented her a little for implying that Brian had something to do with Gus’ problem, but the truth was, she’d never meant him to hear it. Melanie might be a little acrid at times, especially for Brian, but she wasn’t that evil. And both she and Linds had been great for letting him stay with them for the past few days.

When he went to find Brian, Justin ended up bumping into him and Linds after the first turn of the corridor.

“Oh, hi, Justin!” she greeted.

“Hey…” He peeked at Brian. Lindsay arriving to spend the night was the sign that it was almost time for them to go. "I was looking for you."

"Well, I'll leave you boys alone. Gotta check on my prince!" She smiled before walking down the corridor.

 _I'll stay right here with mine,_ Brian thought in spite of himself, and a small smile crept over his lips.

"What's funny?" Justin asked.

"Nothing," Brian said, regaining his composure. "What do you want?"

"I... Listen, about earlier in the car, I didn't mean to..."

"No, you were right." Brian cut off. "What you do with _Rage_ is not my business. I'm not your partner."

Justin cringed. The way Brian said the words made them take an entirely different meaning, one Justin hadn't meant in the first place.

"I just want you to understand that... I did agree that I wouldn't sacrifice my opportunities to be with you. But I sure as hell won't sacrifice _you_ because of a stupid comic!" Justin declared.

Brian made a small smile. "Watch out! I don't think Michael would like to hear you refer to _Rage_ in those terms."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he'd agree with me on this!"

Knowing he was right, Brian made no further comment. "Is that all?" he asked, raising his brows.

"No," Justin admitted, bracing himself for the reaction he'd get to his next request. "Brian... do you think I can stay with you tonight?"

Brian looked at him, taken aback. When he'd first realized that he wouldn't dissuade Justin from staying the whole week, he'd assumed that the younger man would at least show some interest in staying with him. Yet, he'd accepted the girls' hospitality and to Brian's surprise - and some disappointment - he'd never seemed to consider the alternative. It made him think a lot, about a lot of things. About himself...and about what Em had said that night, at Babylon's reopening.

"Well?..." Justin uttered, his brows raised in expectation and his lips twisting in a not-so-hopeful grimace.

"Yes," Brian said, at last.

"Y...yes? Really?" Justin couldn't believe it had been this easy.

Brian nodded.

"Okay! So...huh..." Justin found himself not knowing what to say now that every persuasive argument he'd prepared was useless.

"So, what'd you like for dinner?" Brian asked, in a casual manner. " _Pesce spada cotto e crudo_ or _guancia di manzo brasata_?"

Justin beamed at him. "How about a Triple Whooper with cheese? I saw a Burger King down the street."

Brian sucked his lips in, as if trying to hide his smile. "Sounds good."

That night, it took Brian an unusual amount of time to say 'see you tomorrow' to Gus. He lingered, and Justin with him, until a nurse came to politely kick them out.

As they had dinner in the Burger King near the hotel, they chattered about Kinnetik's latest account and Justin's projects for _Rage,_ but Brian barely ate anything and Justin knew it wasn't to keep his good shape.

As soon as they walked into the hotel room, Brian lit a cigarette and went to stare out of the floor to ceiling window.

Justin leaned on the wall opposite of him. "You've been smoking a lot lately," he said, for no reason in particular.

Staring at the city lights under them, Brian exhaled a grey cloud. "Yeah, well... It's either this or something stronger." He outstretched his arm, offering Justin the cigarette.

Justin accepted and took a drag from it. "At least it warms you up," he considered, blowing out the smoke before handing the cigarette back. He studied Brian's pensive profile as he took a drag.

"Gus looked good today, didn't he?" Justin said.

Brian let the smoke flow freely out of him in silence.

"I mean, when Michael talked about leukemia, I just... I expected to find him really down," Justin mused. "But he's holding up pretty well after all. Tough kid."

"The worst part is still to come," Brian said in a raspy voice. "That shit they'll give him tomorrow... it might kill the cancer cells, but it also kills other cells in his body. It's the chemo that'll bring him down. And we'll have to stand there, watching, and do nothing about it... 'cause it's either that or..." His voice vanished, and he took another deep drag.

Justin got closer to Brian and put an arm around him, a hand caressing the nape of his neck. "Hey... he'll get through this. The doctor said most of the children his age overcome the disease with the chemo."

"Yeah, most of them do..." Brian rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm. "You know what's really shitty?" he asked, turning to face Justin. "Right now he's going with the standard therapy, but what if... what if, later on, we have to make options? Like, choose one treatment over the other or... or decide whether to include Gus in some promising clinical trial? What then?"

Justin pursed his lips. He knew what then.

Brian told him anyway. "I won't have a fucking saying in it! 'Cause I gave away all my right to do it. I’m not his father anymore, I’m nothing to him!" He walked to the couch, threw himself on it and smashed the cigarette bud on a fancy decorative plate on the coffee table. Tilting his head back, Brian closed his eyes shut as he felt them watering. "Fuck..."

Justin sat beside him, feeling his throat tighten. He wished he could tell Brian that the papers didn’t mean anything, that he was still Gus’ dad and the girls would let him have a saying, but he knew that things were not that simple. If it ever came to that, Melanie and Lindsay would have their own ideas of what was best for Gus’, and wouldn’t give up on them in consideration of Brian. It was the boy’s life at sake, after all.

“Listen, Mel and Linds… they love Gus too,” Justin said. “You’ll have to trust them to do what’s best.”

Brian let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah… I’ll have to trust them in everything for the rest of my son’s life. However long it might be…”

Justin held onto Brian’s collar to look him in the eye. “Hey, don’t say that! Gus will have a long, happy life! And you’ll be there, by his side, to see all of it. You hear me?” Justin urged, shaking Brian little, as he kept staring ahead with an expressionless face.

“You don’t know that,” Brian murmured, his voice disappearing inside him. His eyelids fluttered and a couple of tears fell in silence down his face.

Justin could almost touch his pain. He threw his arms around Brian, holding him close. “I don’t know that… But I believe it, I really do,” he murmured next to Brian’s ear. “And you have to believe it too. For him.”

Brian let Justin hug him for a long while. He felt as though, if Justin wasn't there, he'd fall apart in small pieces. And he _couldn't_ fall apart. He had a son who needed him, now more than ever.

Brian recalled his first day in the hotel, wondering what might have happened if Justin hadn't showed up. He might have been lucky, and get away with just a hell of a painful trip. Or he could have drunk himself into a coma. Worse, the dangerous mixes he'd indulged in could have left Gus without a father.

Brian slid his arms around Justin's waist, returning the hug. He'd tried to keep him away, thinking that he was doing the right thing, even though no one else seemed to agree with him, even though it made him empty inside, even though it felt wrong in every way.

Now Justin was back and, even with the storm that Gus' disease had caused inside Brian, some things, some little things, seemed to be falling back in place.

He squeezed Justin tighter before pulling away. "Want a drink?"

Justin studied Brian's face, guarded. He looked more collected now. "Sure," he ended up replying.

Brian went to get a couple of glasses and a bottle of bourbon, pouring the golden drink for both of them. Taking a glass for himself, he took a large gulp. Justin followed suit.

"I just wanted you to be happy, you know?" Brian murmured, staring ahead.

Justin looked at him, puzzled.

"I wanted you to find someone who could give you the things that I couldn't: a home, a family..." Brian went on. "That's why I stopped talking to you. I thought it would be easier on you... if I let you go."

Justin made a wan smile. They were talking about it. They were _finally_ talking about it. "I know that," he said, shifting so he was facing Brian. "But you know, _letting_ someone go implies that they actually _want_ to go in the first place."

Brian took a second gulp. "If we'd stayed together, you'd just... keep longing for something that you knew you'd never have," he said bitterly.  

"I'd have nothing to long for," Justin affirmed. "That someone, that family you talk about... they're a fantasy, they don't exist. You do."

"But I..." Brian hesitated, then downed the rest of his drink. "You know you can't expect me to become the kind of person you want me to be."

"I never did, Brian. Because you already _are_ the kind of person I want you to be," Justin admitted. "You're a good friend, a good father and... a great lover. You're caring, you're understanding, you help everyone without asking for anything in return."

Brian scoffed. "Wow... I _am_ amazing! I wonder why I'm not swimming in marriage proposals right now."

"That's because you act like an arrogant jerk," Justin deadpanned. "You don't want to hold people next to you, so you give them an instant excuse to leave. It's like what you said to me once... You said there weren't locks on our doors. Remember that?"

Brian made a silent nod. As if he would forget that. That night, with that conversation, he'd taken the final step in allowing the young man before him to crawl all the way under his skin. And now he began to think that he would never be able to take him out.

"Well, I hope that it still holds true," Justin said. "Because I want to get back in."

Brian kept a pensive silence, playing with his empty glass.

Justin reached out and gently removed the glass from Brian's hands, before laying it together with his own back on the coffee table. "And I know you want it too," he added, softly.

Brian raised an eyebrow at him. "How do you figure?" he asked, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Well, for one, we both know that you won't find anyone that puts up with your shit like I do in another hundred lifetimes," Justin stated.

Brian smirked. "Well... I won't deny that."

"As I..." Justin proceeded, staring down at his own fingers for a moment. "...won't find anyone that puts up with mine like you."

Brian took in Justin's discomfort, astounded that he might think that he had anything to apologize for.

"Yeah," Brian uttered, causing Justin to face him with uncertain eyes. "I must confess... It _was_ pretty hard on me every time you..." He exhaled deeply. "Every time you had to wear my socks."

It took Justin a moment to process his words, before his expression opened up in a smile. Brian responded in kind, his eyes shining an inviting light.

Justin realized – once again – how much Brian loved him. He loved him so much that all of Justin’s flaws were forgiven in the very moment they came to light. He loved him so much that he would give up half his life to make Justin happy. He loved him so much that he would give up on Justin, for Justin’s sake.

But Justin knew now that Brian would never have to do that.

Justin slid closer to Brian and laid his arms around his neck, running his hands through his dark hair. Brian nuzzled his nose with a dawning smile.

Their lips merged as if driven by an external force and, in that moment, all their longing for each other came to the surface. Brian’s hands crept under Justin’s shirt as his tight hold and deep kiss almost took the younger man’s breath away.

Not that Justin would complain. On the contrary, he straddled Brian’s thighs so he could hold him even closer. He spread soft kisses on Brian’s lips, cheeks, eyelids, drawing a path down to his neck, as he allowed Brian to slide his jacket off of his shoulders.

Slowly, Brian pulled Justin’s shirt off over his head. He kissed the younger man’s bare chest, basking in his scent, in the taste of Justin’s skin on the tip of his tongue, wondering how he could have survived thinking that he would never feel it again.

Justin unbuttoned Brian’s shirt, shuddering as the older man’s tongue grazed his nipple. His hands wandered over Brian’s warm skin. Their foreheads touched, they smiled and kissed again, tongues caressing one another.

Justin gasped when Brian stood up, holding him under his thighs and carrying him along. He chuckled as he was transported inside the bedroom and thrown onto the bed. Brian leaned over him, hands on either side of Justin’s face. He paused, staring at the man under him with an undecipherable expression.

“Brian? What’s wrong?” Justin asked, somewhat worried.

Brian cupped Justin’s cheek and stroke it with his thumb. This time, _he_ was the right one. Brian made a slight smile. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

He pecked Justin’s lips and sat on his heels, letting his shirt fall down behind him. Justin admired Brian’s naked torso, following his every movement as he undid his own fly and slid back onto his feet to pull his pants and underwear down, exposing his weeping erection.

Justin felt his own arousal throb as he crawled closer to Brian. He kissed his stomach and slid his fingers up his thigh, before touching his balls while taking him into his mouth.

Brian weaved his hands through Justin’s hair, letting out a satisfying moan. Then, in spite of the amazing ways that talented tongue was playing his cock, he held Justin under his chin and gave him a gentle push so he would lay back on the bed.

And so he did. With Brian, there were times when Justin liked to take control and there were times when he would willingly yield. This was one of the latter.

Justin let Brian undo his belt and pull his pants off. He let Brian scatter open mouthed kisses on his neck, his chest, his stomach. He let Brian heave his legs over his shoulders and dive down in between them. He let himself moan and sigh, tilting his head back with delight as Brian’s tongue worked in and around his entrance, driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

“Brian…” Justin gasped. “Please!”

Brian nuzzled the inside of his thigh. “What do you want, Sunshine?” he murmured, staring into Justin’s eyes.

“You. I want you in me,” Justin breathed.

Searching the heap of clothes on the floor, Brian retrieved a condom and handed it to Justin.

Justin kissed and touched him everywhere while rolling the thin sleeve over his length, and Brian considered, not for the first time, that being with the same person over a long period of time had its advantages. No one else knew how much he liked that wanting grip on his back. No one else knew the exact spot on his neck that made him shiver when kissed. Or maybe he had come to like those things because Justin did them to him. Well, certainly no one else knew how useless it was to fiddle with his left ball.

Looking into his eyes, Justin pulled Brian down on top of him, wrapping his legs around the other man's torso. He gasped at the painfully fulfilling sensation of Brian sliding gently but steadily inside him.

They kissed, and kissed again, as Brian moved on top of Justin, rocking his world every time he rocked his hips. It felt as though a long, long time went by before they could no longer hold on. Justin arched his body onto Brian's, taking him deeper in and moaned the intense climax that coursed through him. Brian was taken along, panting onto Justin's shoulder as he released inside him.

Spent, sweaty, they lay side by side, Justin still shuddering in the sequence of his blinding orgasm.

Brian smiled, brushing Justin's damp bangs off of his forehead. "That was a good one, huh, Sunshine?"

"I... huh..." Justin paused to catch his breath. "I hadn't done this since I... huh... in a while," he concluded awkwardly, sprawling his hand on Brian's chest.

Brian laid his own hand on top of Justin's. "You know, I hadn't..."

Justin's chuckle cut him off. "Don't even try, I won't believe you!" he said, propping his head up on the heel of his palm.

Brian pulled Justin's elbow from under him, throwing him on his back again and pinning him down playfully. "I was gonna say..." Brian insisted, raising his brows. "I hadn't _made love_ since you..." He rolled his eyes. "...in a while."

Justin smiled and cupped his cheek. "I can believe that."

That night, as Justin fell asleep with an arm around his waist, Brian smoked a last cigarette, thinking. Just like the drugs, being with Justin made all the pain a little easier to bear. However, unlike with the drugs, he didn't felt twice as miserable afterwards. Actually, he mused, as he played with a strand of blond hair, it made him feel like things _might_ get better.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, ain't that cute? A shame if something not so good was to happen in the next chapter xD.
> 
> Now, being serious... I would especially appreciate feedback on this one so, please tell me all your thoughts, even the not-so-good ones? ;)


	7. So bad it hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for making you wait longer for this one, but here it is now! 
> 
> And thank you so much for all the lovely comments you guys have been leaving here. :) They really keep me going (so please continue? :P)

 

 

Gus was having trouble sleeping. He’d spent most of the previous night on Brian’s lap, leaning on his father’s chest as he sat in the hospital's room armchair. Now, as dawn peeked through the windows, the boy was still awake, puling because he felt too tired and too sick to cry out loud.

Beside them, Lindsay held the hand that the boy kept outstretched because of the I.V. catheter inserted in his arm. Neither she nor Brian had had any sleep that night.

"What is it, honey? You still feel nauseous?" she asked, unable to hide her anguish.

The boy nodded against Brian's chest.

"I'm gonna get the nurse. Maybe they can give you something..."

"No!" Gus cried out. "I don't want any more shots!"

Over the last two weeks, the medics had injected painful antibiotics in Gus' buttocks, punctured both his arms to give him fluids and medication, biopsied his testicles and made a spinal tap to look for cancer cells in their usual sanctuary sites. He'd endured the unpleasant procedures because he knew that he was sick, and his parents had told him that it was all to make him better. Only a couple of days ago the doctors had begun to give him some different medicine, one that wasn't making him feel better. It was making him even sicker, and he didn't understand why he had to go on with it.

Brian cradled the boy's head in his hand. "He's already taking everything they can give him for the nausea," he pointed out.

"Well, obviously, 'everything' isn't working," Lindsay said, nearing despair.

"Please, Mommy! No more shots! I don't wanna!" Gus whined, panicking.

"Calm down," Brian murmured to Lindsay, gesturing towards the little boy who lay on his chest.

Lindsay covered her face and took a deep breath, before running a hand through her hair. She pulled off a smile and touched Gus' face. "It's ok, baby. There won't be any more shots now." She wished that she could promise him that there wouldn't be any more shots ever again, that there wouldn't be more bad medicines and that he could leave the hospital now and never come back. But she couldn't promise that. "Hey, what about I call Momma and tell her to buy that Disney book you liked the other day?"

Gus shook his head.

"What about that toy car? The convertible. The one you could put your action figures inside?"

Gus shrugged, uninterested.

"Well, tell me something you want, then," Lindsay offered.

This time, the boy raised his head. "I can have anything I want?"

Lindsay hesitated. "Well... as long as it's something I can get you..."

"I want a little brother," Gus declared.

Brian chuckled as Lindsay stared at their son, taken aback. “Well, you did say ‘anything that you could get’,” he pointed out, amused.

"Honey… you already have a sister,” Lindsay said, trying to talk Gus out of the idea. “Don't you like Jenny?"

“I like her,” Gus considered. “But she’s a girl. When she grows up, she’ll be annoying like all the girls from my class. It’s much more fun to play with a boy.”

“Daddy agrees with that,” Brian said.

“But… you know we can’t choose those things, right?” Lindsay explained. “When Momma and I decided to have you, we didn’t choose that you would be a boy, it just happened. The same with J.R. Say that we decided to have a baby boy and it came a baby girl instead? What then?”

“Then, I’d like her too. But if it was a boy, it would be so cool!”

Lindsay couldn’t help but smile at the happy glow in her son’s eyes brought by the simple prospect of having a brother to play with him. She stroked his cheek. “Oh, baby…”

“Gus, you have to understand that having a baby is not an easy thing,” Brian intervened. “And your Mommy…”

“Your Mommy will do it,” Lindsay cut off, as sudden resolve took hold of her. “I can’t promise it will be a boy, but I promise to try.”

Gus’ eyes widened in wonder. “Really?”

She smiled. “Really.”

The boy threw himself into Lindsay’s arms, out of his mind happy, the nausea almost forgotten.

“Careful!” she warned, trying not to tangle herself with the I.V. line, but she couldn’t keep the chuckle out of her voice.

Brian stared at her with his jaw clenched. All signs of amusement had vanished from his face.

The entire night that he’d spent awake and the recent excitement ended up exhausting Gus enough so he finally fell asleep. Lindsay and Brian took the chance and slipped out of the room to grab some breakfast from the hospital’s cafeteria.

“What kind of bullshit was that?” Brian deadpanned, as soon as they stepped away from the room.

“What do you mean?” Lindsay asked, keeping her cool.

“Just because he’s a kid and he’s sick that doesn’t give you the right to go ahead and make that sort of empty promises. How do you think he’s gonna feel when…”

“Who’s making empty promises?” she retorted.

Brian stopped in the middle of the corridor to stare at her in disbelief. Lindsay stared back at him, her chin up, daring him to contradict her.

“Lindsay… You can’t seriously be considering having another child at a time like this.”

“Of course not! Not now. But if…” Her voice faltered. “… _when_ Gus overcomes the disease, I have every intention of keeping my promise to him.”

Brian’s voice came out softer when he said, “You know that… that won’t change anything.”

“And what will?” Lindsay wondered aloud, his throat clenching in an effort not to cry. “If I knew of something – anything – that could make him better… I’d give my arms, my legs… I’d give my _life_ if I knew that would help him. But it wouldn’t. So what else can I do? Tell me! What can I do?!”

Brian just put his arms around her, wishing to have a better answer.

 

 

A couple of hours later, Justin went to find Brian on the hospital’s rooftop, sitting against the protection wall and, without surprise, smoking. As he stepped closer, he felt a recognizable smell of burnt grass.

“Can’t believe you’re smoking weed in the hospital,” Justin remarked, sitting beside Brian.

“It’s called medical use,” Brian said. He studied the joint in his fingers. “Hey, you think I should give some to the kid? They say this helps during the chemo, and whatever they’re giving him now for the nausea isn’t doing shit.”

Justin chuckled, half-amused and half-saddened by the suggestion. “He’s five,” he pointed out, laying a hand on Brian’s propped up knee. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

Brian sighed. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He peeked at Justin. “When are you leaving?”

 “Tomorrow, around noon,” Justin said. “I just need to put some stuff in order. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

“No, you won’t,” Brian affirmed.

“Brian!”

“Listen to me,” Brian ordered, cutting off Justin’s protest. “You’re gonna return to New York, sell your paintings, and your comics, _and_ get back to your job.”

“Brian, I thought that we’d talked this through and…”

“Hey, I’m not finished!” Brian intervened. His next words sounded softer, less imperative. “You can’t just stay here indefinitely. It’s bad enough that you took a week off when you’re working in there for just a few weeks. You wanna lose your job? How’re you gonna help the half-naked guy in paying for your awesome place if you’re unemployed?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “His name’s Colin. And for the record, he’s not always half-naked. Better if he was…” He mused.

“Well, that’s what you’re gonna do,” Brian said. He took a drag from the joint. “They say that, in a few days, Gus will be better from the chemo’s symptoms,” he declared, his voice somehow nasal because of the smoke he was retaining. He blew it away. “If so… I’ll come over to see you before the next treatment session.”

Justin blinked a couple of times before he absorbed the meaning of the words. Then he exclaimed with a delighted grin, “Really?!” before switching to a slight frown and a more guarded, “Really…? You mean that? This is not you… plotting to send me on my merry way and stop talking to me again?”

“I mean it,” Brian assured. He shifted to lay his head on Justin’s thighs and took the next drag looking up at him. Justin ran a smooth hand through Brian’s hair, noticing how tired he looked. His eyes were red-rimmed and with huge bags under them. It was no wonder considering that he’d spent the previous night up, and Justin was pretty sure that he hadn’t slept for more than a few hours during the ones before that. He used to wake up quite early and every morning he’d found Brian looking like he’d been awake for a good while.

 “It’s better this way,” Brian mused. “You leave this place before you get caught by the general madness.”

“What do you mean?”

“What, you can’t tell? Melanie is either the bitchiest or the sweetest person, depending on the day. Michael keeps throwing me those looks, as if I’m grieving my entire family. And now Lindsay…” He shook his head in disbelief.

“What’s with her?”

“She thinks that she can help the situation by making some kind of crazy promise. To Gus, or to God… Or to herself, I’m not really sure…” Brian mumbled.

“Well, you know… people need something to hold on to,” Justin considered.

Brian blew pensive smoke circles. “I guess you’re right.” His eyes locked with Justin’s, who leaned down to give him a peck on the lips.

Justin chuckled into the kiss when Brian shoved his tongue all the way into his mouth. He trapped it and sucked it further in, admiring the way Brian’s eyes became hooded with desire.

Brian let out a satisfied sound when Justin released him. “Have you ever done it in a hospital’s rooftop?” he asked onto the younger man’s lips.

Justin grinned.

Five minutes later, they were doing what they’d never done in a hospital’s rooftop – Brian was sound asleep as Justin cradled his head on his lap.

 

 

The morning of the next day, Justin woke up alone in the hotel bed. He looked at the bedside clock and it marked 7 a.m. He had plenty of time. With a tightening sense of gloom, he closed his eyes again and hugged the pillow, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.

Justin didn’t want to leave. Not again. Not now. Gus seemed to be getting worse instead of better and Brian, even though he could hide it most of the time, was devastated.

Dragging himself into a sitting position, Justin looked around for Brian, but he wasn’t anywhere nearby. Maybe he’d already left for the hospital. He threw the covers aside and walked into the sitting room, naked as he was, rubbing his eyes.

Brian was still in there after all. Sitting on one of the armchairs, his bare feet resting on the coffee table, he wore only the hotel’s white bath robe and held a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” Brian greeted. He eyed Justin as he walked in, stark naked and unabashed. He looked so beautiful, so unguarded… so young. Brian, on the other hand, had never felt older. “I ordered breakfast.”

Justin noticed the colorful tray right beside Brian’s feet, brimming with food. There was milk and granola, orange juice and coffee, pancakes and fruits. Everything looked delicious, but not enough to whet his appetite.

“I’m not hungry,” he sighed, sitting on the couch.

“You gotta eat something,” Brian said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Justin just leaned his cheek on his knuckles, throwing a despondent look at the tray.

Brian laid his cup down and went around the coffee table, grabbing a red apple on the way, before sitting down on the couch with an arm around Justin, earning an intrigued smile from him. After taking a bite from the apple, Brian leaned in and parted Justin’s lips with his. Justin chuckled as he let Brian push the piece of fruit into his mouth.

“Did you know,” Justin said while chewing the apple. “...that kissing on the mouth as a sign of affection comes from a habit of our primal ancestors? Mothers used to chew the food for their infants before giving it into their mouths.”

Brian made a face of both amusement and repulse.

“What? It’s not like they had electric blenders at the time,” Justin pointed out, swallowing what was left of the fruit inside his mouth.

“The more you know…” Brian said, offering him the apple to bite. Justin bit a chunk off of it and offered it back to Brian’s lips, this second transfer involving much more tongue work than necessary.

“You hungrier now?” Brian whispered, nuzzling Justin’s ear.

“Uh-huh,” Justin uttered, running his palms over Brian’s chest to open his robe. His state of complete nakedness wouldn’t have let Justin hide his arousal had he wanted to.

“Then how about… eating…” Brian proceeded, in the same low tone, caressing Justin’s neck with his lips while discreetly snatching a piece of pancake from the tray. “…this!” Brian shoved the food into Justin’s mouth, chuckling as he fought to keep it in there without choking.

“Very funny,” Justin muttered, when he managed to secure the pancake inside his cheek.

Brian leaned towards him, but stopped when their noses were touching and held a finger to Justin’s lips. “Keep that to yourself. We do have electrical blenders _now.”_

Justin chuckled as he received Brian’s peck, before reaching for the tray and pouring some maple syrup over the remaining of the pancake. He wrapped a piece of it to form a small roll and leaned over Brian to bring it to his lips.

“Why, did I just unveil your food fetish?” Brian teased.

“What are you talking about? It was never veiled in the first place! Now open up.”

Brian did as he was told, nibbling Justin’s finger as took the roll into his mouth. Justin put his arms around him, his chin on Brian’s shoulder as he chewed in silence.

“It wasn’t this kind of oral gratification that I intended to give you before you left,” Brian said.

Justin smiled and kissed Brian’s cheek. “Don’t do that again,” he murmured.

“Do what?”

“Don’t talk as if I’m going to disappear forever. I’m not,” Justin declared.

Brian eyed him for a moment, and ended up inclining his head in what could’ve been a nod. He cupped Justin’s face in both his hands. “Is it wrong, though, to make every time as good as if it was the last time?”

Justin let Brian's tongue slip into his mouth and held him tight, responding to his hungry kissing. He wasn't sure if Brian believed him, he never seemed to, but other than tell him over and over again that he wanted to be by his side, there was nothing much he could do. Except kissing him like this, touching him like this and always coming back to him.

Justin made Brian's robe slide off of his shoulders, caressing his back. He loved to watch Brian, all of him. He loved to watch Brian's hair, tousled by his hands, as he kissed his neck. He loved to watch Brian's tongue flickering over his nipple, making him writhe. He loved the way Brian closed his eyes as he mouthed his stomach. He loved the way Brian’s muscles contracted over his shoulder-blades as his hands traveled up his thighs to settle on his hips. He loved to watch his cock disappear inside Brian’s mouth, to feel Brian’s smooth tongue slide down its underside, then up again as he sucked.

Brian was beautiful and everything he did was beautiful. Even more so when Justin didn't know when he could touch him again.

Clenching a fist into Brian’s hair, Justin bit his lip hard as he thrust into the mouth that enclosed him.

Brian hummed around him, taking him in. When he pulled out, he did it slowly, teasing, licking Justin around the tip and over his slit, making him hiss.

“Your… cock… is… delectable,” Brian said, as he drew a trail of kisses from Justin’s stomach, over his chest and to his lips.

Never breaking the kiss, Justin pushed Brian down, his back on the couch, and straddled his hips. He went from mouthing Brian’s lips, to his jaw, to his neck, wishing he could keep his taste somewhere to take with him. He wanted Brian, he wanted him so bad!

Brian tightened his hold around Justin, weaving a hand through his hair, and moaned, craning his neck to give him access.

“Fuck me, Brian,” Justin demanded, panting, laying his forehead onto his.

Brian held Justin’s face close, looking into his eyes, and the simple gaze said so much that Justin wondered how could he never have noticed, how could he have never known.

Then, he surprised Justin by reaching out to the tray, retrieving a lubed condom from one of the bowls.

“You ordered that with breakfast?” Justin asked, in disbelief.

Brian eyed both sides of the packet. “From what I’m paying them, they could’ve at least come up with something flavored.”

“I prefer your natural flavor,” Justin declared, snatching the condom from him.

“Oh?” Brian uttered with a small smile, as he watched Justin lean down, licking his skin from tip to base in time with the rolling down of the condom.

Justin pecked Brian’s lips, before offering him his back, kneeling on the couch and bracing himself on the backrest.

Brian scooted closer and slid a hand down Justin's spine, admiring Justin’s smooth skin, the way Justin’s back arched to meet his touch, the way Justin’s clear eyes looked at him over his shoulder. Sometimes Brian wondered what he had ever done to deserve this trust, this committal. And the worst part was that sometimes, like this time, he dared to hope - to hope for real - that Justin might actually be with him for a long, long time.

Brian put his arms around his lover from behind, nuzzling his neck, relishing the tight skin to skin contact. Justin ground his backside against Brian's eager hard-on, causing him to lose control for an instant and ram it inside to the hilt.

Justin let out a muffled cry at the sudden penetration, yet he was still pressing his backside onto Brian’s groin as hard as he could.

“Sorry,” Brian murmured kissing his ear, as he touched Justin’s chest with one hand and steadied his hips with the other. As he began to move slowly, Justin craned his head back over his shoulder, his lips waiting for Brian's, but not for too long.

Justin’s hand came to rest over Brian’s on his own chest, entwining their fingers. “Harder,” he breathed onto Brian’s lips.

Brian did thrust harder, until it was hard to breathe. He thrust deeper until Justin’s teeth were buried deep into the soft fabric of the couch, muffling his grunts. He thrust faster until his fast heartbeat stopped for an instant, right before he joined Justin in a sky-high ecstasy.

Exhausted, they panted in unison, and for a moment they didn’t move, they didn’t want to move. Then, Brian slid his arms around Justin and dragged him down so they would both lie on the couch.

“I don’t want to go,” Justin murmured, as Brian held him close. He didn’t want Justin to go either. He never knew, he could never know, when he would see him again.

“There’s a lot of stuff in life that we don’t want to do, Sunshine, but we have to do it anyway,” Brian asserted against the back of Justin’s neck. He took a deep breath. “I’m sure that the cleaning staff doesn’t want to wash your come off of the cushions either, but that’s just their luck.”

Justin smiled. And then he smacked Brian’s butt.

“Ow!”

“I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” Brian affirmed. He brushed Justin’s sticky bangs back from his face. “Now, why wouldn’t you want to go back to fabulous New York City, where you have your astounding exhibition to tend?”

Justin rolled around so he was facing Brian. “Would you’ve come?”

“What?” Brian uttered, confused.

“You received the invitation, didn’t you? For the exhibition opening?”

“Yes...”

“Well… If it wasn’t for Gus… would you’ve come?”

“What does it matter?” Brian evaded.

“Nothing. Just curious,” Justin shrugged off.

Brian studied his face for a moment before answering. “I… hadn’t decided yet.”

A bright smile blossomed on Justin’s face and he kissed Brian’s lips. “I knew that you would’ve come.”

 

 

Hours later, when Colin received him at the JFK airport with a friendly hug, Justin was still feeling Brian's arms around his body, Brian's tongue on his skin and Brian's shaft inside him. He hoped for the sensation not to vanish too soon.

"How's the kid doing?" Colin asked.

Justin grimaced. "Not good. But hopefully he'll get better soon. At least that's what the doctors say."

"Good. That's good," Colin considered. "And… how were things with daddy?"

"He was pretty messed up with the whole thing..." Justin said, but he could keep a tiny smile from showing.

"Hmm, I see. So you guys made up and went at it every time you weren't taking care of the kid," Colin concluded.

Justin chuckled. "It wasn't exactly like that..."

"Not exactly... Sure..."

"How were things while I was gone?" Justin asked as they walked to the bus stop.

"Meh. Same old, same old," Colin said, shrugging. "The most exciting event was a blackout in our entire building. Oh, and there's this!" He retrieved a small stack of magazines from his messenger bag. "I brought everything I could find that mentioned your stuff. The pages are marked."

Justin took some of the magazines from him, but he waited until they were sitting on the bus to open the first one. The article that Colin had marked was small and, even though the author didn’t say, like the last one, that Justin was the best thing since sliced bread, it was still a positive critic. "Not bad," he considered.

Colin grinned and selected another magazine from the pile. "Check this one."

The first thing Justin noticed about this other article was that it occupied a much larger space on the page. The second thing was the name of the author. "Joshua Harris? That's the guy who bought _Missing!_ I never thought he was a critic..."

"Maybe he likes to work undercover," Colin considered. "But he did like your work. Says the painting was probably the best investment he’s made in the last five years." He handed Justin a third magazine. "And this one? This one's the best!"

Justin searched for the article in eager expectation. As he read, his enthusiasm turned into a frown. He raised an eyebrow at Colin. "It says my stuff sucks."

"Yes! Isn’t that awesome?" Colin claimed, cheerful, patting his shoulder. "You got haters! Means that you're becoming an important guy!"

Justin had to laugh at that, throwing the magazine at his head.

It happened when they stepped out through the backdoor of the bus. It could have been a casual glance around, or maybe Justin had already caught something out of the corner of his eye. Either way, he looked back and saw a familiar face go inside the bus he’d just left.

Justin froze in place, his heartbeat speeding up. It couldn’t be him. Last time he’d heard of Chris Hobbs, he still had a steady, established life in Pittsburgh. What were the odds of finding him on a bus in New York City? No, this was just some other, yet very similar, guy. Had to be.

Even as these thoughts crossed his mind, Justin stared intently through the bus’ windows, trying to spot him again - just to be sure - but it departed before he could.

“Justin?” He turned around to see Colin staring at him, amused. “What’s up? You wanna go back already?”

“No…” Justin uttered, still stunned. “I thought I saw… huh… nevermind, let’s go.”

They walked to their building’s front door, which was right around the corner from the bus stop. What a coincidence it would be, Justin thought again, if it was really Hobbs that he’d just seen, right around the corner from his place.

When he took his first step inside the studio, Justin decided that he would never leave Colin in their place by himself for so long again.

“What happened here, a rave party or a hurricane?” he asked, eyeing the pieces of clothing, dirty cups and paintbrushes scattered everywhere.

“None of the above. I was just too lonely to clean up,” Colin asserted.

Justin gave him a droll stare. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. But I’ll tidy it up, don’t worry.”

“I hope so. And please start with those piles of clothes on my bed. Who’d say you had so many clothes?”

“I know, right? I had no idea either,” Colin confessed.

Justin rolled his eyes. “So… where’s the phone?” He’d looked around and noticed that it wasn’t in its usual place by the computer. “Or should I ask, what’s it _under_?”

“Oh, it’s behind those canvases, on the worktable by the window,” Colin said.

Justin found the phone right where Colin had said he would, preferring not to wonder why his roommate had put it there in the first place. He dialed Brian’s number and stared at the urban landscape outside of the window as he waited for him to pick up: the afternoon sun peeking in between the tall buildings, the crowds and cars rushing about, and the buses… Justin found himself staring pointlessly at every passing bus.

“Hello?”

Justin smiled at the sound of Brian’s voice. “Hey! I’m home.”

“How was your trip?”

“It was…” His eyes followed the bus that had just turned the nearest corner. “…fine. It was fine.”

“Are you sure?” Brian asked. “You sound distracted.”

Justin almost said, _Yeah, that’s because I saw Chris Hobbs just now,_ but he refrained. It was a bad joke and, with everything Brian was going through, a terrible time to tell it.

Because that’s all it was, a joke. There was no way that the guy he’d seen was Hobbs. No way.

 


	8. The ones who hate you in your face

 

Justin watched Eric as he turned the first page of the _Rage_ issue in his hands. The man made an approving nod - Justin smiled. The second page brought an impish smile to his face - Justin smiled wider. At the third, he cringed a little - and Justin with him.

When Heather had mentioned a business lunch, Justin hadn't imagined it to be in a mall's food plaza, but that was exactly where they were - him, Heather, Colin and comic book shop owner Eric McLain - all sitting around a table covered with greasy paper boxes and comic books.

With his square jaw, scruffy beard and burly physique, Eric McLain would be an intimidating figure if it wasn't for the Spiderman t-shirt that he wore. He was approaching forty, but his passion for comic book heroes hadn't faded a bit since he was a teenager. When he was twenty, his grandfather, a mechanic all his life, had had to quit the job and left his garage to him. Eric had converted the space, and that's where he had his first store. Now, he owned three different places in New York City where he sold all the most popular American comics. Also, once in a while, he liked to search for promising works by unknown authors. Even so, he'd never seen something like what he had in front of him.

Justin studied every small twist of the man's face, trying to understand what the verdict would be. He exchanged looks with Colin, who shrugged, and they both looked at Heather, who was gazing at Eric, calm and unflinching.

When Justin met Heather for the first time, he hadn't taken long to understand why Colin was crushing on her. She wasn't a stunning long-legged beauty - actually, she was pretty short and, although cute, his face looked tiny framed by her untamable brown mane - but she was captivating. Heather talked to everyone as if with a longtime friend - and made people feel as such after five minutes. It was no wonder that she kept so many amicable connections with former employers and consultants.

The same had happened with _Rage._ As soon as she got acquainted with him, she was as eager to promote the comic as if it was her own creation. To Heather, _Rage_ was something unique. While not the first of its genre, it had a dark emotional depth that made it enjoyable beyond the erotica and superhero fandoms. It deserved to be distributed countrywide, not just in some small store in Pittsburgh. And she would see to it. First thing to do was get it seen by the largest amount of people possible, and McLain was one of her best bets.

"Well, it certainly is... different," Eric said, at last, closing the book.

Justin didn't think that sounded good.

"I love the artwork," Eric admitted.

"Wait until you read the whole thing," Heather said, pushing three more volumes in the man's direction.

He accepted them, even though he was still guarded. "Heather... you know how I like to dig up all sorts of indie stuff, but... my store isn't exactly located in a gay district like his," Eric said, pointing Justin. "I'm not sure if I'd have enough buyers for this to make it worth it. I don't think I have that many gay clients."

Justin chortled. "What, you mean among all those guys who like to see muscled men in tights?"

Eric smiled. "I'm pretty sure most of them will tell you that that's not why they like it."

"Maybe, maybe not," Heather intervened. "But, you're still disregarding a potentially important section of the market."

"I am? Come on, let's be honest here. With this amount of explicit sex scenes, I can't see many straight men interested in it, no matter how good the story is."

Heather smiled. "Oh, I'm not talking about straight men. I'm talking about straight _women._ ”

“What?”

Even Justin and Colin looked at her, taken aback.

Heather's smile widened and she leaned her elbows on the table, joining her fingertips. “Well, I’m sure you know that superheroes are not just a guys’ thing anymore. And, if you had followed my advice and expanded your business into Japanese _manga_ , you’d also know that they have a whole genre of homoerotic comics whose main target audience is, precisely, women. And you’d be aware of the increasing number of western girls searching for this kind of thing.”

Eric eyed her with skepticism. “Women? You think women would like this?”

“There’s hot men fighting crime and having hot sex. What’s not to like?” Heather replied.

 “It’s just… I always thought women were into more romantic stuff, not… _this.”_ Eric raised the famous blowjob cover volume, amused.

“But that _is_ romantic!” Heather assured. “It’s all about thawing Rage’s cold heart. Right, Justin?”

Justin chuckled. “That’s right.”

“His heart… sure…” Eric jested. He organized the volumes before him into a neat pile. “Well, I’ll take a better look at these and give you an answer by the end of the week.”

"Deal," Justin said, holding out his hand to Eric with a wide grin. "Thanks. For considering it."

The store owner shook it with a smile. "It's my pleasure. And whatever the answer turns out to be... don't give up. You're very talented. Only... you know how things go - people have to look after their business first."

"Yeah, I know," Justin said.

Eric kissed Heather goodbye and shook Colin's hand before leaving them on their own.

"Well, at least we tried," Justin sighed.

"What do you mean? He's totally gonna do it," Heather affirmed, with a look of self-satisfaction.

"You think? With all the people-have-to-look-after-their-business talk?" Colin asked, not very convinced either.

"Yeah! I'm a hundred... well, eighty two point five percent sure," Heather said.

"I guess that's good enough," Justin chuckled. "You really think that women would buy _Rage?_ "

"Yup. It's just a question of how you get it out there."

"His boyfriend's an ad exec," Colin pointed out.

"Yeah. He's also got a firm and a club to run, and a sick son to tend to," Justin said. "No time to advertise comics on the side."

He'd been in touch with Brian for the past week and, as predicted, Gus' was getting better from the chemo's side effects. Brian had taken the chance to fly back to Pittsburgh for a couple of days and tie up some loose ends. Alonzo was a fine manager, so Babylon was doing great without him, but Kinnetik was a different matter. Even though Brian had excellent professionals working with him, there were still some things that he was required to do himself.

Justin hadn't complained, but he was afraid that the promised visit would have to be postponed.

"Don't worry, I know how to get it seen by the proper audience. Who needs an ad firm when you have the internet?" Heather said, determined. "I'll be your agent on this. Just leave it to me!"

"Sure. As long as you're not charging..." Justin conceded. He looked at his watch, and sighed. "Gotta go to work, guys. I see you later. Thanks, Heather."

"Anytime!" Heather replied with a toothy grin. "Wanna go for an ice cream?" she asked Colin.

“Sure,” he said, even before she'd finished the question.

Justin hid a smile at his friend’s eagerness, before leaving them with a last wave and walking down to the bus stop.

Catching the bus had become a different experience since the day he’d come back and thought he saw Chris Hobbs getting inside one, and right by his door. He couldn’t keep himself from checking every person coming in, and everyone who stayed and waited at every stop.

Sitting inside the bus, watching the New York streets pass him by, Justin wondered what he’d do if he actually met Hobbs again. He knew that he wouldn’t be paralyzed by fear, not anymore. It would be hard to feel that way towards someone who’d been kneeling at his feet, crying and begging. However, it wouldn’t be a pleasurable experience either – he’d rather not look at the bastard’s face ever again.

Distracted by his own thoughts, Justin missed his stop and had to run back an entire block to arrive at his workplace on time.

He walked inside the store through the backdoor and went to the dressing room to put on the light blue t-shirt that was the staff uniform. He greeted the manager as he walked into the shopping area, and she briefed him on the restocking that needed to be done.

Of all the places he could've ended up working in, Justin considered that this was among the best. For one, even if he was a simple employee, he was certainly in his area of expertise. Being an artist himself, he could advise the clients based on his own experience, unlike most of his co-workers. That also made him a valuable resource for the store - and more likely to get away with things like taking a whole week off after working in there for a month. Also, he loved the smell of paints and varnish, wood and graphite, canvas and paper. Being surrounded by brand new art materials made him eager to draw, or paint something, anything.

Even though Friday afternoon shifts felt like the longest of the entire week, today it went by in a flash because Justin's spirits were up. If Heather was right and Eric decided to take a chance on Rage, it meant that three different spots in New York City would be introduced to the intrepid gay vigilante and, who knew, fall as deeply in love with him as Justin - and Michael, Colin, Heather - had.

As he organized pastel sticks into their proper shelves, Justin daydreamed about the future success of his comic. New York was just the beginning. Someday, Rage would be known countrywide. They could make it into an animated cartoon. It might even get famous in other parts of the world!

He tried to tone down his fantasies to focus on his work when he sensed a client walking into the aisle. It was almost time to leave and he had to finish shelving the pastels.

“’Hard sticks’. Just what I was looking for.”

Justin almost dropped the box in his hands when he spun around to face the ‘client’ who studied the label on the shelf with amusement.

“Brian?!” he uttered in disbelief.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” Brian said, with a smile in his eyes.

“I thought you were in Pittsburgh!" Justin struggled to grasp the fact that Brian was _here_ , standing before him. He looked good. Tired, no doubt, but content and relaxed in his informal clothes.

“I was, when I called you,” Brian stated. He’d considered warning Justin of his arrival but he’d refrained. And it had been worth it, just for the chance to see the look of wonder in his eyes as he all but dropped the box of pastel sticks on the floor, before coming to him to kiss his lips. Brian got to feel Justin's face on his fingers, the tip of Justin’s tongue on his lips, before the younger man recalled that they were at his workplace and pulled back, looking around and hurrying to pick up the box again. Fortunately, there was no one else in the aisle.

Justin’s face lit up with a smile. “You came!”

Brian took a step closer to him. “Don’t I always…?”

“Come when you say you will? Yes,” Justin chuckled.

“Now, why don’t you finish packing all these ‘hard sticks’…” Brian said, putting an arm around Justin’s neck to pull him closer and play with the pastels inside the box. “…so we can walk down this aisle together and go have some dinner? What do you say?”

Justin eyed Brian’s face, about an inch apart from his, with a half-smile. “Yes.” He kissed Brian away so he could resume his work. “And these are the soft sticks,” he added, amused.

Brian shrugged. "Not my art medium of choice."

Not even an hour later, they were getting out of a cab in front of Justin’s building to drop Brian’s surprisingly modest luggage at the studio.

 “So, was Kinnetik falling apart without your brilliance?” Justin teased, as they climbed up the stairs.

“Not at all, they hung on pretty well,” Brian said. “If I’m not careful, I might lose my job one of these days.” Which was to say that, even though he’d attended half a dozen meetings with clients, caught up with two weeks’ worth of paperwork and tried to have as much things ready ahead of time as he could - all of it in a couple of days – it could have been much worse, hadn’t his team worked so well in his absence. Of course he hadn’t slept much, but Brian was already used to that. “How’s _your_ business going?”

“I showed _Rage_ to the owner of this big store,” Justin recounted, searching for his keys. “Looks like there’s an eighty two point five percent chance that he was convinced.”

"That's... accurate," Brian snickered.

"Yeah," Justin chuckled, unlocking the door and opening it wide. "And Heather says that women might..."

Justin went mute. Brian didn't understand why until he stepped inside the studio after him and faced the two men sitting on the futon. He knew only one of them, but he wished that he didn't.

Now with a clean-shaven face, Hobbs looked exactly like the eighteen-year-old he'd been, the same that had hit Justin back then. For a second, Brian felt his head spin. He'd forgotten. How could he have forgotten?

"Hey, Justin!" Colin greeted, as if he wasn't sitting beside the man who'd almost killed his roommate.

Hobbs stood up awkwardly, his gaze darting back and forth between Justin and Brian. He looked uncomfortable, nervous even, but Justin didn't see any of this. He saw only the unexplainable, horrifying fact that Chris Hobbs was inside his home, with his friend, as if he was a _guest._ He felt nauseous.

"What the fuck is going on?" Justin seethed.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Brian echoed.

Colin's face fell and he looked at Hobbs, at a loss. "I... I thought...

Hobbs ignored him and took a step towards Justin. "Taylor, I..."

"Get away from him!" Brian roared, standing in his way.

Hobbs stepped back, but other than that he ignored Brian, speaking to Justin over his shoulder. "Taylor… I need to talk to you."

"I don't wanna talk to you!" was Justin's instant answer, his only certainty.

"I know..." Hobbs said, clenching and unclenching his fists. "But I..."

"Get the fuck out of here,” Brian deadpanned, cutting him off, divided between the revulsion caused by Hobbs proximity and the desire to put his hands on him and break him down. The sight of Chris Hobbs face sent his mind into a repeated replay of Justin’s prom night, as vivid as if it’d happened yesterday. He saw Justin walking away again, smiling, carefree. He recalled the way the warmth in his heart had turned freezing cold in a millisecond when the figure with the bat had come behind Justin, the helplessness he'd felt at realizing that he would never get to him on time, the sheer horror of finding him on the floor, covered in blood and unresponsive. He remembered knowing for a fact that it was over, that he would never see Justin’s smile again.

“Hey, calm down, man!” Hobbs made the mistake of saying. “I just wanna...”

Brian grabbed his collar and jerked him closer. "Listen here, you fucking piece of shit," he hissed in Hobbs' face, manhandling him towards the door. “If you don’t get your motherfucking ass as far away from here as you can in the next five seconds, you’ll wish that I had charged you with stalking, because at least in jail you’d know that _I_ wouldn’t reach you.”

Staring into the cold emptiness of Brian’s eyes, Chris Hobbs knew that he meant every word. He didn’t make a move to resist when, under Justin and Colin’s astonished gaze, Brian shoved him outside the door so hard that he hit the opposite wall. Rubbing his sore shoulder, Hobbs eyed Brian who, standing in the doorway, still looked like the human incarnation of hate. Behind him, Justin watched the dumbfounding events playing before his eyes, not knowing how to react, not knowing how to _feel_.

When he stepped closer to touch Brian's arm, Hobbs interpreted the movement as receptivity. "Listen, Taylor, I just..."

"Leave," Justin ordered. A lot of things about this situation confused him, but he was still sure of one thing - he didn't want to be anywhere near Chris Hobbs.

Hobbs gave Justin a last look, one that he couldn't quite decipher, before finally turning on his heels and striding down the stairs.

Brian slammed the door shut behind him. He turned to Justin, who was rubbing his own forehead in bewilderment, and grabbed his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Justin nodded. He was surprisingly ok, just weirded out by the whole thing. He knew that Brian was much more affected when he put his arms around him, kissing his forehead. Justin held him too.

“Huh… Does someone want to explain to me what just happened?” Colin asked.

“That’s what _I_ should be asking! What the hell was he doing in here?” Justin retorted, pulling back from Brian’s embrace.

“Well, he… he told me that he was a friend of yours. From high school,” Colin said.

Justin scoffed. “A _friend_?”

“Which… obviously isn’t true…” Colin mumbled.

“So, anyone that says they’re a friend, you let them in just like that?” Brian snapped.

Justin rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up, Brian! You’re a fine one to talk about letting strangers in.”

Brian pressed his lips together and reached for the cigarettes inside his jacket.

“So, who’s the guy?” Colin asked.

“Well, we did go to high school together,” Justin said. “His most friendly gesture was hitting me in the head with a baseball bat.”

Colin’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck! This was the one who…?

“Yep.”

Colin sat down on the futon with his hands to his head. “Fuck! I-I… I’m so sorry! I didn’t…”

“It’s ok, you couldn’t have known.” Justin began to pace back and forth. “I just don’t get it. How did he find out where I lived? How did he even know that I was in New York?”

“He asked around,” Brian said, blowing smoke as he spoke.

“Who would’ve told him? My family knows who he is, and so do our friends. They would never tell him anything.”

“I saw him near Babylon. At the reopening,” Brian told.

“What?” Justin uttered in disbelief.

“He was asking the guys in the line for someone. Now I’m sure that he was looking for you.”

“Well, they couldn’t have told him much,” Justin shrugged.

Brian raised a brow at him.

“I _did not_ tell random guys who I fucked once where I was coming,” Justin affirmed.

Brian’s eyebrows fluttered before he took a drag from the cigarette.

“Did you?” Justin asked, with a slight frown.

Brian scratched his forehead with his thumb, going back to that infamous week, shortly after Justin had left. He’d been high on something twenty-four-seven and still had some unsettling gaps in his memory from that time. He’d even gone to get tested for STDs earlier than he used to, because he couldn’t know what he had – or hadn’t – done during those blanks. Could he be sure of what he’d revealed? “No… No, I don’t think so,” Brian said. He eyed Justin. “I should’ve told you.”

Justin went to him and caressed his arm. “It’s ok. It wouldn’t have changed anything, anyway. I'd never expect him to just... show up."

Meanwhile, Colin had turned pale. “You think he wants to… hurt you, or something?”

“I… don’t know,” Justin muttered, deep in thought. The obvious assumption was that Hobbs wasn’t up to any good, but… He’d said that he wanted to _talk_. Talk about _what_?

“That fucker… after all this time…” Brian bit, clenching his teeth.

Justin shook his head slowly. “It’s been over a year… and now…”

“A year?” Brian caught. “I thought that you hadn’t seen him since that time at the hospice.”

“Huh… Well, I…” Justin stuttered. “I did come across him again about a year ago.”

“Oh. I wonder why you never mentioned that…” Brian mused, suspicious.

“It was no big deal,” was Justin’s meek try.

“No big deal... Ok. Then I assume you won’t have any problems in recounting the circumstances of this… mysterious encounter?” Brian pressed, raising his brows.

Justin stared at him, apprehensive. He’d never told Brian about having confronted Chris Hobbs back then. After his reaction to him carrying an unloaded gun, Justin could only guess that Brian wouldn’t be very approving of his action. It wasn’t his concern, anyway. It was something Justin had to do by himself and for himself. Besides, he had never held a gun again after that.

It seemed like he’d gotten away with it for long enough.

Justin took a deep breath. “You better sit down…” he said, pulling Brian onto the futon with him as Colin took the armchair.

By the time Justin finished his story, Colin stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, and Brian had forgotten the cigarette between his fingers, already burnt to the filter. For a moment, there was complete silence in the studio.

At the time, Justin joining the Pink Posse had come as no surprise for Brian. He'd always been one to fight for his rights and for what he believed in. Only at noticing the bruises on Justin's body, the growing contempt in his words, had Brian begun to worry. And when he'd found the gun, he'd been truly afraid. Even after Justin had assured him that it was just for show, Brian knew that he was playing with fire all the same. It's not that he thought his reasons were wrong, he just considered that there wasn't a cause in the world, no matter how right, that was worth risking Justin's life.

Brian had been so glad when the Pink Posse dissolved and Justin's spiteful speech was toned down overnight that he hadn't even wondered why.

Well, now he knew.

"That's crazy, man!" Colin uttered at last. "Maybe... maybe the guy's looking for a way to retaliate now.”

"What I did _was_ retaliating," Justin pointed out.

"He might not see it quite like that, don't you think?" Brian said.

Justin shrugged. "If he was trying to attack me or something like that he wouldn't have come over here. We both know that he's more the type to hide in a dark alley, strike out of the shadows and run." He laid his hand softly on Brian’s thigh, making a small smile at him. “Seeing that there’s no one there to stop him.”

"There won't always be someone in there, Justin," Colin said, worried. "Say... that he wasn't certain of what building you lived in, so he had to come here to confirm. But now that he knows, he could… follow you, study your habits, and then choose the right place and moment to strike." The piercing look Brian gave him made him add, "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

The phone rang then, causing all three men to look away from the heavy atmosphere about to fall over them.

"Shit, it must be Heather. I asked her out for dinner," Colin said, desolated. "I'll just tell her that we have to reschedule."

"No, don't do that," Justin protested. "The guy's gone. There's no need to miss your date over this."

"I... don't know. We'll see about that," Colin said, hesitant, before hurrying to pick up the phone.

"We could double date," Justin tried, holding Brian around his waist. "There's this place... Colin and I went there once. It's not exactly Babylon, but..."

"How about spending a quiet evening at home?" Brian cut off.

Justin pulled away from him and folded his arms over his chest. "You said you'd buy me dinner."

"We can order."

"You don't even like quiet evenings at home."

"That's not true!" Brian said in mock outrage. "At my age, one begins to realize that there's actually more to life than danceing all night long. There's also… staying and fucking your brains out all night long."

"You just don't want me to leave because of Hobbs."

"Why, you really are a genious," Brian scoffed.

Justin stood up and ran both hands through his hair in exasperation, before turning around to face Brian. "I won't change any plans because of that bastard, Brian!”

Brian threw him a reproving look and yet, try as he might, he could feel nothing but admiration towards Justin's refusal to give in, even after everything he’d been through. At the time Justin was bashed, some people had seen Brian as a sort of savior. They didn't know that Justin had never needed anyone to save him.

Back from the phonecall, Colin cleared his throat. "Well... It looks like you guys could use some time alone, so I guess I'll go meet Heather as planned."

“Go ahead, have fun,” Justin said, patting his shoulder and wiggling his brows. “Good luck.”

Colin nodded with a small smile. He looked from Justin, to Brian and back to Justin. “Meanwhile, I’ll take a look around the block. See if he _did_ leave.”

Justin rolled his eyes, but didn’t tell him not to.

“Call if you see something,” Brian asked. He was beginning to regret the impulse that led him to throw Hobbs out. “Maybe we should’ve kept him here… call the police,” he mused, as Colin walked out the door.

Justin threw him an exasperated look. “And charge him with what? Visiting?”

Brian stood up, trying to pace his nervousness away and think clearly. “He came all the way from Pittsburgh to New York to find you. You don’t really expect him to give up on whatever it is that he wants just because I shove him out the door, do you?” Brian pointed out.

“I don’t care! I’m not afraid of him!” Justin declared.

“Well, I am,” Brian admitted. He walked to Justin and ran his hand over the back of his head. “The thought of that psycho being around, knowing where you live… it scares me shitless.”

Justin gave him an apologetic look. He cupped Brian’s cheek and kissed his lips, before hugging him.

“You’re pissed with me, aren’t you?” Justin mumbled onto Brian’s shoulder.

“Damn right I am,” Brian said, grasping Justin’s hair with care. “What the hell were you thinking? Going after that… _murderer_ with a gun? You could’ve gone to jail, to say the least.”

“Yeah… but I didn’t.”

“I’m starting to think that it would’ve been the best outcome of all this,” Brian stated, ominous. He pulled back to look Justin in the eye. “Come stay with me in Toronto.”

“What?” Justin uttered, in disbelief. “Brian, when I wanted to stay, you insisted for me to come back here!”

“The situation changed.”

Justin eyed him. It was hard not to feel tempted, but he knew that he couldn’t do it. He’d wanted to be with Brian to support him, but Brian already knew that he was with him, even when he wasn’t _there_. What he could never do was run from Chris Hobbs.

“No, nothing changed. I still have a job to keep,” Justin declared. Brian raised an eyebrow at him. “I told you, Brian. I’m not changing _a thing_ in my life because of him. I can’t. Not again.”

Brian studied him and, finding only the same unwavering resolve as before, he knew that there was nothing else that he could do. This was Justin's life and he couldn't tell him what to do with it, no matter how much it pained him.

“Sunshine…” Brian sighed as stroked Justin’s cheek with his thumb. “You make me wonder, sometimes…”

“About what?”

“About what exactly your balls are made of," Brian replied with a light chuckle.

Justin grew a slow smile that turned into a laugh. He leaned on Brian, caressing his neck. “Why don't you find out by yourself?” he said, taking Brian’s hand and guiding it inside the front of his pants.

Brian smirked. "How about dinner?" he asked, as his skillful fingers drew a gasp out of Justin.

"I'm not hungry," Justin breathed onto Brian's lips.

"I am," Brian said as he gently pushed his lover towards the bed, licking his lips apart.

They fell on the mattress and on each other, kissing as if their lives depended on it.

Justin threw his head back, panting as Brian's hand rubbed his length up and down. "He thought he could stop me," he uttered in a breathy chuckle.

Brian raised his lips from Justin's neck. "What?"

Justin rolled him over and sat on top of him. "Hobbs... that son of a bitch..." he said, nuzzling Brian's jaw. “I offended him, and he thought that he could stop me."

"But he couldn't," Brian said, watching Justin, intrigued, as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"No," Justin agreed, planting kisses on Brian's chest. "He could never." Brian ran his hand through his blond hair, sighing as Justin licked his nipples slowly until they were hard. "He can try whatever he wants..." Justin's lips trailed down Brian's stomach. "...whenever he wants..." Brian gasped when Justin's tongue slid over the skin right above the hem of his boxer briefs. "...but he can never keep me from this." Releasing Brian's cock from the confinement of the boxers, Justin took it carefully into his mouth.

That night, Justin went all out. Brian was certain that no one in that building had any sleep with the moans Justin drew from him with his sucking, plus the squeaking of the mattress as Justin rode him, the thumping of the bed's headboard on the wall as he took Justin from behind. Justin didn’t hold back, and neither did Brian. He also wanted to let everyone – all the Chris Hobbses in the world - know that they wouldn’t refrain from being alive, no matter who was disturbed by it.

When Justin laid quiet on his stomach, Brian still on top of him – inside him – he knew that no one else would ever understand like he did. He raised a hand over his shoulder to touch Brian’s face. “I love you, Brian.”

“I bet you say that to every guy who makes you come three times in a row,” Brian murmured next to his ear.

Justin chuckled. “You caught me there.” He turned around to let Brian kiss him on the lips. Brian had never really needed words to say ‘I love you too.’

“You know, if you came to Toronto, we could do this every night,” Brian said, nuzzling Justin’s neck. “And every morning… maybe even some afternoons.”

Justin grinned. “Tempting…” he considered, tilting his head back to let Brian kiss his Adam’s apple. “But my answer still stands.”

Brian let his forehead fall onto Justin’s chest in defeat, before eyeing him again.

“Well… It’s your call. But you know that you can come stay with me whenever you want.”

“I know,” Justin said, idly caressing Brian’s hair. “And I will. Next weekend, when I’m free.”

Brian puffed.

“I’ll be very careful, I promise,” Justin assured. It was bad enough that Brian had Gus’ disease to deal with, there was no need for him to be worried over anything else. "I won't go anywhere without a lot of people around. I’ll even ask Colin to be my bodyguard.”

“He’s not all that intimidating,” Brian grunted.

Justin shrugged. “Think of it as having a dissuading witness.”

Brian stared at him for a moment before making a slow nod. Sighing, he searched through the heap on the floor that was his jacket in search for the cellphone.

"I'm gonna call Linds. Haven't heard of Gus since this morning."

"That usually means everything is ok," Justin considered.

Brian half-smiled at that as he held the phone to his ear.

Lindsay picked up after a single ring. "Hello?"

"How's he?" Brian asked, straight off.

"Sleeping," she said, with a sigh. "He's feeling much better now but... He's not very eager to make the next treatment..."

"Yeah... I know..." Brian's eyes dimmed visibly. Justin kissed his shoulder.

"He's been asking when will you be back..." Lindsay added.

"Tell him I'll be there by Sunday. As soon as I can. I just... I have this amazing art exhibition to attend first," Brian said, his eyes smiling at Justin, who beamed back at him.

"Are you with Justin now? How's he?" Lindsay asked.

"I'd say he's great, considering that I've just fucked him."

Justin chuckled beside him.

"Jesus, Brian..." Lindsay huffed, amused. She lowered the volume of her voice. "I gotta go. I'm outside Gus’ room and the nurse's shushing me. I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

"Sure. Bye." Brian hung up and stared at the phone for a moment, before putting it away. “You were right,” he told Justin. “Everything’s good… for now.”

 

Back in Toronto, Lindsay paced away from the hospital's rooms aisle. Irritated, Mel followed her wife.

“I think he’s finally making things right with Justin,” Lindsay commented when they walked into the cafeteria, where it was safer to be noisy.

“Don’t try to change subjects, we're not done yet,” Mel said, hands on her hips.

Lindsay sighed. She’d finally told Melanie about her decision of having a third child. Like Brian, she hadn’t taken it too well. “Come on, Mel… You make it seem like I’m being completely unreasonable, when in reality plenty of couples have three kids! It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure that ‘plenty of couples’ discuss the issue before they make that decision!” Mel pointed out.

Lindsay scoffed. “Funny that _you_ say that. You’re the one who told everyone that we were gonna have a second child before even _I_ knew!”

“You’re absolutely right! And I thought that we’d learned something from that experience!” Melanie retorted.

Lindsay took a deep breath, before cupping her wife’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, honey, I… I know that I should’ve talked to you first but… Let’s think about this together now, ok?” She pulled a chair by one of the small, square tables, offering the seat to Mel, who took it and, however reluctant, got ready to listen.

Lindsay sat opposite of her and leaned over the table. “Listen… we live in the best neighborhood imaginable to raise children. Most of our neighbors have kids, and you know how many of them already offered to babysit if we ever need it.”

“Yes, but that’s no reason to…”

“Plus,” Lindsay cut off. “They pay me much better now than Sidney did, and you’re doing pretty fine yourself. I’d say that, financially, we don’t have anything to worry about. And, we're fortunate to have Gus’ treatment expenses paid by the public healthcare system.”

“Yes, we’re very lucky for that,” Melanie admitted. “But there are other costs.” She held her wife’s hand. “Linds, our son is very sick. We can’t afford to have anything else on our minds right now.”

Lindsay nodded. “I know. I know that, but… If you’d only seen him! He was so happy! He…” her voice faltered and she lowered her eyes for a moment. Then she faced Mel again armed with newfound resolution. “I know it was a hasty decision but… I thought it through and I’d really like to do it.”

Melanie caressed her cheek. “I tell you what… If… when Gus gets better, we talk about this again. Ok?”

“Ok…” Lindsay agreed, meekly.

“Excuse me.”

They raised their eyes to find Dr. Campbell, the oncologist who was following Gus. The tall, chubby man was dressed in casual clothes, meaning he was on his way out. Melanie and Lindsay stood up to greet him.

“It’s good that I find you here,” he said. “I’ll need you to come by my office tomorrow morning. Is nine o’clock ok for you?”

“Sure, but… what’s it about?” Melanie asked, trying a polite smile.

“Oh, it’s Gus’ test results. I got them this afternoon.”

“And…?” Lindsay asked. “Is the treatment working? Is he…”

“I’ll need some time,” the doctor interrupted.” …to explain everything to you properly, so we can discuss the progression of Gus’ treatment from now on.” He looked from Lindsay to Melanie. "Tomorrow at nine, then?”

Disarmed by the doctor’s casual posture, both women nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They watched the doctor walk away, silent, until he disappeared from their sights.

“Something’s not good,” Melanie stated.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here goes a thanks to MHampton (go check his works!) for pointing out how lucky the girls were for being in Canada, where Gus' health expenses could be paid by the publicly funded health care system, while in the US they'd have to rely on private insurance. :)


	9. A lot of things used to be

  

"A bone marrow transplant," Brian repeated, eyeing the doctor on the opposite side of the desk.

"Yes," Dr. Campbell confirmed. It had been difficult enough to explain the situation to the mothers, but the doctor suspected that the father would be even more of a challenge. However, even knowing that Brian wasn’t the legal guardian, Dr. Campbell had insisted in talking to him as if he was. The oncologist had followed Gus’ case for mere three weeks, and he wouldn’t pretend to know his family dynamics in and out, but he himself was a divorced father, whose children lived in the country’s west coast, and he felt that he never knew what was going on with them. In his view, a father had the right to know.

"We’d asked you about this before. You said it wasn't the time to think of it," Brian deadpanned.

"It wasn't," Dr. Campbell said. "Transplantation is rarely a part of the first line of treatment. But I’m afraid now _it is_ the time to consider it."

"What changed?"

"Gus' test results show that his reaction to treatment has been slower than it should," the doctor explained. "Given this, and the type of leukemia that he has, it is advisable to perform the transplant after he achieves the first remission. That is, after this first period of chemo clears his blood from cancer cells."

"Yeah, I know what it is," Brian stated, impatient. "So how does it work?"

"Ok…” The doctor retrieved a diagram from a drawer. It showed a long bone cut in half lengthwise, exposing the spongy, red substance inside. "As I explained before, the bone marrow is where the blood cells are produced. They come from what we call the hematopoietic stem cells. In leukemia, these stem cells originate diseased blood cells instead of healthy ones. This means that the leukemic child, among other things, will be more prone to infections, since the white blood cells that should be protecting the organism are no longer functioning properly."

"Yes, I know that too." He’d already been informed about what Gus’ disease was about, and it seemed to him that the doctor was stalling.

"Very well. Then it's easier to undersand how the transplant works,” Dr. Campbell proceeded. “The idea is to replace the diseased stem cells in Gus' bone marrow with healthy ones from a donor. Once the new stem cells settle in Gus' body, they'll begin to produce functioning blood cells again."

"Sounds great," Brian said, with a faux smile. "What's the catch?"

The doctor sighed. "Well, the first challenge might be to find a suitable donor. You could never donate because of you cancer problem, Lindsay was already tested, and she doesn’t match… Actually, the probability of finding a match among the relatives is less than thirty percent. Our best option would be a related sibling, but Gus doesn't have one. If there isn't a family match available, we have to go through the voluntary donors’ network."

"I see... So that's the first thing. What else?"

"It's a risky procedure,” the doctor declared, imitating Brian’s to-the-point tone. “Before the actual transplant, we'll have to destroy all of Gus' bone marrow with radiation to make sure that there are no diseased cells left that could reproduce later. And even after transplanting the healthy stem cells to him, there are some possible complications. The cells can fail to settle, the body can reject them… and let's not forget that we're subjecting an already frail organism to a series of aggressive treatments."

Brian’s eyes lingered on the spongy substance in the diagram before he could face the doctor again. "What if we decide not to do it?"

"You'd be significantly reducing Gus' chances to have a long term, disease free survival," Dr. Campbell said in a firm, however soft tone.

In face of Brian’s helpless expression, the doctor leaned forward with a sympathetic look, his hands intertwined over the desk. "I know it's a tough decision. That’s why I encouraged the mothers to look for a second opinion. But I don't believe my colleagues will think differently. This is his best chance."

Brian left the doctor’s office with a million things going around in his head, ricocheting off his skull.

As if that wasn’t enough, Melanie was waiting for him, leaning on the opposite wall. As soon as Brian closed the door behind him, she pushed herself away from it and eyed him, expectant. “So?”

“So, what do you want me to say? There’s no other choice, is there?” Brian barked.

Melanie seemed to relax a bit. She half-expected him to make a fuss over it. “We got an appointment with a different specialist but… no, I don’t think so.” She sighed in resignation. “Anyway, Lindsay called her sister. She agreed to get tested… to see if she’d be a compatible donor.”

Brian didn’t understand Melanie’s intent look right away. When he did, a single word came to mind. “Fuck…”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Mel declared. “I’m… gonna find Linds and Gus.” She gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and walked away down the corridor.

Brian watched her go before taking his cellphone out of his pocket. He stared at it, then put it back. He did this about five times before deciding he needed a smoke, and walked around the hospital looking for the closest balcony, only to end up in the rooftop again. After a couple of cigarettes, he didn’t feel ready yet but he knew that he had to do it.

He retrieved the cellphone again and made the call. They didn’t take long to pick up. “Claire? This is Brian…”

 

 

As the end of the week approached without any Chris Hobbs' sightings, instead of being more at ease, Justin felt increasingly anxious. Brian was right, he hadn't come all this way to give up at the first try. _First try on what?_ Justin couldn't stop wondering. He'd kept his promise to Brian and took every percaution possible, so if Hobbs had been looking for payback, maybe Colin's constant presence at his side whenever it wasn't in a populated space was discouraging enough. And that was great, except it couldn't go on forever. Colin had a life of his own to go back to.

The news about Gus' new course of treament hadn't helped any. Justin realized now that, at first, although he'd acknowledged the seriousness of the disease, he'd never contemplated the actual possibility of Gus not getting better eventually. Brian's tone over the phone had been an harsh call back to Earth.

Meanwhile, Eric McLain hadn't given him an answer on selling the comics and Justin began to think that Heather's prediction had been overly optimistic. Of course that, in face of everything else, this was only a major worry in the sense that Michael kept nagging him about it and his patience was growing short.

"That's not true," Colin said, holding one of the ends of a huge wrapped up canvas, walking backwards up the stairs of their building. "Michael asked about that twice, tops. You're just peeved that he gets to be with Brian while you're stuck here, painting them all with longing colors..."

The only positive side of the tense times Justin was going through was that he was painting like a madman.

"Which is great, but I'm sure you could use something smaller," Colin said as he struggled to transport the canvas through the studio's door without grazing the walls.

"Nope, had to be this one," Justin stated, lifting his side of the wooden frame and walking inside along with his roommate.

"Ok, where do you want this?" Colin asked.

"We can put it over there by the window for now."

Colin maneuvered with the voluminous package toward the indicated place as Justin followed him.

"I can't stand this wait anymore," Justin huffed, lowering the frame carefully. "It's like something's always about to happen but it never does! I almost want Chris Hobbs to walk through that door, so I know what he's up to once and for all," he confessed.

"Don't say that!" Colin said, and hurried to close the door, turning the key around twice.

In a sense, Hobbs visit had been more disturbing to Colin than to Justin or Brian. Spending half an hour chatting amicably with someone, only to find out later that that person is a felon who perpetrated a life threatening attack against one's roommate can do that to a person. The guy had seemed so... normal. Nice, even. In Colin's view, that made him even more scary.

"Can't help it, that's how I feel," Justin said, checking their phone. "There's some voicemail."

"It must be Heather. Give it here," Colin asked, his inner fears forgotten in the same instant.

Amused, Justin threw the phone onto his roomie's hands. "How're things going between you two?" He knew Colin and Heather had gone out a couple of times, but no great news had been announced so far.

"We're... you know... getting there," Colin evaded, before putting the phone to his ear.

Justin rolled his eyes and was about to mock Colin for being a wuss, but his appalled expression at listening to the voicemail made him frown instead. "What? What is it?"

"It's... for you," Colin muttered, handing him the phone back.

Terrified that it might be bad news about Gus, Justin held the phone with quivering hands and replayed the message. He didn't even had time to feel relief when he realized that the recorded voice wasn't Brian's.

 _Hey...Taylor. It's Hobbs here._ Justin looked at Colin with eyes as wide as his roommate's, as he continued to listen. _Kinda hard to find you alone these days, isn't it? Listen... I know you don't want to see me, or listen to me. I expected that much. But I..._ There was a short pause, during which Justin could only listen to Hobbs breathing. _I need to talk to you. I'm not trying to... hurt you, or anything, as your friends seem to think; it's just talking. But it's kind of important, so I won't give up that easily. I'm sure you rather do this on your own terms... right? Please, call me._ Hobbs recited a phone number, and the message ended.

Justin listened to it a second time to make sure he’d gotten everything right. Then a third time. “He really has been following me,” Justin realized. What else could he mean by ‘Hard to find you alone these days’?

"And he got our phone number!" Colin whined. "How the hell did he do that?”

"Same way he got our adress..." Justin said, matter-of-factly. He ran his hand through his hair. “Says he isn’t trying to hurt me…”

“Yeah… What else would he say?” Colin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It sounds kinda threatening to me. Implying that he’s been keeping an eye on us… the ‘it’s best to do it on your terms’, as if to say ‘or else…’”

“Yeah, I thought that too,” Justin admitted. “But at the same time... it’s kinda vague. It could have been unintended.”

“You really think so?” Colin asked, with obvious skepticism.

Justin shrugged, and listened to the message yet again. No matter how he looked at it, the tone felt ambiguous at best. He soon realized what intrigued him the most - those last words, ‘please, call me’. Why would Hobbs say ‘please’ if he was trying to intimidate him? Now that he thought of it, Justin didn’t recall ever hearing him use that word before, ever.

“I don’t think he would be dumb enough to send a threatening message with his name on it,” Justin added out loud.

“Maybe not,” Colin conceded. “But he’s crazy enough to think that you’d actually call him.”

“Yeah…” Justin sighed. _The question now is, how crazy am I?_

 

 

Justin didn’t call. Not that day, not the ones that followed, but by the end of the week, when he departed for Toronto, every word of Hobbs message was engraved inside his skull, that's how many times he'd listened to it. He told himself that he was still thinking what to do about it, but the truth was, he already knew what he _wanted_ to do, he just couldn’t admit it to himself.

That afternoon, when Justin opened the door of the hotel suite, the humming sounds and ragged breathing told him that Brian wasn’t alone. He stepped inside in silence, curious.

Brian was sitting on the couch, naked from the waist up. With his head thrown back, lips parted and eyes closed, he seemed to be away from himself. Justin guessed that was the point. About the man kneeling before him, Justin couldn’t say much - except that he was a brunet and his ass looked fine in the dress pants he was wearing - as he was busy with his face down onto Brian’s lap. And even though Justin knew this was just another form of escape from everything happening with Gus, he couldn’t help but to think that the scene was hot.

However discreet Justin was trying to be, he couldn’t avoid the ‘click’ when the door closed behind him. Both men raised their eyes to him, Brian’s somewhat dazed, the other man’s dumbfound.

Justin raised the hand that wasn’t holding his duffel bag. “Don’t mind me. Please, continue!” he said, amused by the stranger’s deer-in-headlights look.

Brian held his hand out to him. “Come here.”

Justin approached from behind the couch and leaned over the backrest to kiss Brian’s lips. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that the brunet was still staring at them. He raised his brows at him. “Did he say ‘stop’?” Mouthing Justin under his jaw, Brian smiled.

The stranger’s eyes widened a bit, then a smirk began to form on his lips before he went back to his assigned task with renewed enthusiasm.

Justin brought his lips to Brian’s once again, parting them in a soft but intense caress. Brian stroked the back of his neck with his fingertips as he slid his tongue inside Justin’s mouth. It was enough to make him hard. Really hard. Somehow, Brian could make Justin harder with a simple kiss than some guys could by going straight down on him, which never ceased to amaze him. Justin wondered if it was the same with the other men Brian was with.

Cupping Brian’s face, he deepened the kiss.

When Brian’s hand became a fist on his blond hair, a soft moan escaping his lips, Justin had the odd sensation that he’d just come more in his mouth than in the other guy’s.

“Huh… I... I guess I’ll get going…” the stranger uttered, as they didn’t stop kissing. “And… thanks for the tip, sir,” he added, before making for the door, shaking his head with a smug half-smile.

Justin raised his eyes to stare after him. “Don’t tell me he’s the…”

“Valet? Yes,” Brian confirmed.

Justin chuckled, going around the couch to seat beside Brian. “So, they do provide five-star service.”

“It was four-star, at best,” Brian grunted, zipping up his fly. “I thought you wouldn’t come until later.” His slight smile said he didn’t mind much that things had happened differently.

Justin let his arm fall over the back of the couch to play with Brian’s hair. “I got to catch an earlier flight. I tried to call you, but the line was busy, so I called Lindsay and she said you were in the hotel, _sleeping_ ,” he said, amused.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Brian mumbled.

“At least you seem to be making your way towards healthier habits,” Justin joked.

Brian smiled. He put his arm around Justin’s neck and pulled him closer, bringing their temples together. Justin kissed his cheek.

“Linds said Gus was in the playroom with the other kids,” he said. “That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, he’s in the ‘up’ phase now,” Brian admitted, although gloomy.

“Any luck yet in finding a donor?”

Brian shook his head. “Lindsay’s sister is not compatible. They’re looking into the donors’ network, but they’ve got nothing so far.”

Justin squeezed his shoulder. “They’ll find someone, you’ll see. Gus is gonna be fi…”

“Don’t say he’s gonna be fine!” Brian snapped, jumping from the couch under Justin’s dumbstruck gaze, and turning around to yell at him. “Don’t _fucking_ say that when nothing’s _fucking_ fine! _Everything_ ’s going _fucking_ wrong!”

Brian paced away rubbing his face, and back grasping his hair.

Justin waited patiently for him to calm down, cursing himself. He should have known better than to say something like that, but what else could he say?

At last, Brian landed on the couch beside him again. “I’m sorry…” he muttered.

“Forget it,” Justin said, softly.

“I’m just… I…” Brian bit his lips. “I called my sister,” he said.

Justin’s eyes widened in surprise. “Claire?”

Brian nodded. “Earlier this week. To ask if she would consider… being Gus’ donor, in case she was a match.”

“So… what did she say?”

Brian made an empty smile. “That I had a nerve, asking for something like that, when for years I’ve done everything in my power to ignore her, my adorable nephews, my lovely mother and my charming father, and the fact that I’d ever been part of their enchanting family," he retold. "This is the censored version, of course.”

“That bitch!” Justin exclaimed, when his outrage faded just enough to allow his ajar mouth to move.

Brian let out a genuine chuckle, before slumping back on the couch again. “She does have a point, though.”

“Who cares? She could have had the biggest point in the world, but this… How can she do that? This is her nephew! A child, for Christ's sake!”

“Yeah, I told her that,” Brian said, sounding oddly calm now that Justin was losing his temper. “I told her I wasn’t asking for me. As if I’d do that!...” he scoffed. “I guess she sees no difference.”

“That’s… so fucked up!”

“It was to be expected,” Brian declared. “It’s what happens when you try to bury your past when it’s still alive. When you least expect, it’s biting you in the ass.”

“I guess you’re right…” Justin uttered, thinking of Chris Hobbs’ message. He hadn’t mentioned it to Brian. He wouldn't. “You’re still going to the hospital today, right?”

Brian nodded. “Later. It’s my turn to spend the night. You can stay here, have some rest.”

“No, I want to see Gus. I’ll go with you," Justin said.

Brian shrugged. “You might as well," he conceded. "Since that place will probably be overloaded tomorrow."

“How so?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “They’re all coming.”

"They...?"

"Emmett, Theodore, Debbie... the Professor and Michael's brat... _They_."

"Really? That's great!"

"It's not great," Brian grunted. "My son's not a pilgrimage site. I would've tried to talk them out of it, but considering that it was Debbie's idea, I don't think I'd have any luck."

Justin chortled and stroked the back of his neck. "Don't be like that, Brian. They're your friends. They love Gus and want to offer their support. Plus, I'm sure the girls will appreciate it, even if you don't," he said, knowing very well that Brian appreciated it too, but letting him keep up the act.

“You know what I’d appreciate?” Brian said, pulling Justin into his arms.

"What would that be?" Justin asked, grinning as Brian planted kisses all over his neck.

His lover was halfway wrapped around him when Brian pulled back to reply. “That you’d come take a walk with me.”

"What...?" Justin uttered, his whole body at the ready for something else entirely.

"A walk," Brian repeated. "Don't you want to get to know this wondrous city?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Then, come on." Brian stood up from the couch and pulled Justin along.

A little disappointed but also curious, Justin complied. Where did this sudden urge to go out had come from? He waited for Brian to tidy himself up and they walked out of the hotel with the sun barely above the horizon.

"Where are we going?" Justin asked, when Brian hailed a cab.

"I told you, we're going to explore the city." Brian opened the door of the car and gestured for Justin to go inside. "Come on."

Justin humored him. He got really suspicious only when Brian gave an adress to the driver.

"That's quite specific, considering this is an exploration trip," Justin remarked.

"We're going to explore a specific place," Brian retorted, staring ahead.

They traveled for about fifteen minutes before the cab stopped near a commercial area, in front of a red brick apartment building.

"We came to walk here? I was expecting a park or something..." Justin commented, looking around.

"Actually, there's one about five minutes away... that way," Brian said, pointing with his thumb before starting to walk in the opposite direction.

Justin strode after him, at a loss. He grabbed Brian's arm and followed, resigned. "Let's explore that very specific place, then."

Brian smiled at him and put an arm around his shoulders. He stopped at the entrance of one of the buildings and, to Justin's surprise, reached for the keypad by the door and dialed the code to open it.

"Are we going to one of your fuck parties, or something?" Justin asked, following him inside the elevator.

Brian huffed in mock outrage. "There's more to life than fucking, Sunshine."

"Name one thing," Justin dared, amused.

Brian made a deep-in-thought face, but the elevator came to an halt in the meantime, so he grabbed Justin's hand to pull him out and guided him through the hallway. When he stopped to knock at one of the doors, Justin almost stood on his tiptoes in expectation.

The door opened to reveal a smiling, good looking man. For a moment, Justin thought that it must really be a fuck party, but the formality of the man's demeanour as he shook Brian's hand convinced him otherwise.

"Mr. Kinney. It's good to see you again! I see you brought company this time..." the man commented, smiling at Justin.

"Yeah, this is my..." Brian gave Justin an hesitant look.

Justin didn't let Brian's hesitation linger before completing, "Partner."

“Oh! Nice to meet you, Mr…”

“Taylor,” Justin said, having no idea whose hand he was shaking. Then he noticed the card on the man’s chest that identified him as John Roberts, realtor.

“Please, follow me,” the man said, and so they did.

They walked into a spacious, luminous living room. The furniture was limited to a large, black leather sectional couch, a fluffy white carpet and a small, modern looking corner bar.

“Brian, what exactly…” Justin whispered, but John Roberts had already launched into his speech, cutting him off.

“As you see, the living area is quite roomy and you have plenty of freedom to redecorate. It also has natural lighting during most of the afternoon,” the man said, before pointing a doorway to their right. “The kitchen’s this way.”

The tour around the apartment was short, because there wasn’t all that much to look at. The kitchen wasn’t very big, more like a tunnel with a countertop and cabinets on one side and a small table on the other, but it was fully equipped and spotless. The bathroom was contiguous to the bedroom, both also decorated in black and white and well lit by wide windows. The queen size bed occupied most of the room, seeing that the nightstands on each side were a part of it.

“Well, this is it,” the realtor concluded. Noticing the confused look in Justin’s eyes as Brian walked around, he added. “I’ll leave you two alone to ponder. If you have any more questions, I’ll be right outside.”

“So, what do you think?” Brian asked casually, as John Roberts stepped out of the bedroom.

“I don’t even know what I’m looking at,” Justin said, perplexed. “Are you… are you gonna move to Toronto as well?”

Brian shrugged. “I pretty much already did. Gus’ disease isn't something that he can get rid of overnight and… I want to be with him. I can’t just stay in a hotel for months on end.”

“So you’re buying an apartment.” Justin sat on the bed, feeling overwhelmed. He couldn’t tell why the prospect of Brian moving disturbed him, but it did. The truth was, Brian had been staying in Toronto for the past few weeks, and Justin had still been with him. The trip from New York took him barely over an hour.

“I’m leasing it," Brian said. "I’ll also hire some more people for Kinnetik, and delegate what I can, so I don’t have to fly to Pittsburgh so often…”  Sensing that Justin was troubled, he sat beside him. “It’s not a definitive thing. It’ll be maybe a year… two…”

“Yeah… It makes sense… I guess…” Justin muttered. It was the idea of Brian actually moving to a different country, he realized. It felt as if he was going further away from him, even though he knew that it wasn’t true.

“Then why are you making that face?”

Justin breathed his irrational uneasiness away and smiled. “Nothing,” he looked around. “I think it’s a great place.”

“Even though it’s got nothing on the country manor of your dreams?” Brian teased, leaning on him.

Justin’s smile was bittersweet, just like the memory. “That… It was just another fantasy…”

Brian raised his brows questioningly.

“I’d probably get bored to death if I’d lived in there all the time,” Justin confessed. “I think the big city is more my thing. I love living in New York. There are so many different places, so many things to do…”

Brian studied him for a moment, before growing a slight smile. “I don’t get you sometimes…”

“Sometimes, neither do I,” Justin admitted. “I guess the secret is... not trying too hard.”

Brian nodded, before tilting his head playfully. “I kinda liked the name, though.”

Justin grinned. “Britin…”

“Yeah, well… It doesn’t exist anymore,” Brian letting out a theatrical sigh. “Now, it’s home for a lovely hetero family and it’s probably called… Wuthering Heights?”

Justin chuckled and held Brian’s collar. “Of course it exists.”

“What?”

“Britin. It might no longer be a palace in the country side…” Justin leaned forward until his nose was touching Brian’s. “But it’s still here, in this… cozy apartment in downtown Toronto.”

“Actually, I’m not so sure about this one." Brian bounced on the mattress, testing the springs. “Do you think it can take it?”

Justin smiled, pushing Brian down on the bed to kiss him. It could take it.

 

 

It was always easier for Brian to get Gus to fall asleep than it was to any of his mothers. The boy preferred to lie his now hairless head on his father’s chest because it was broader and it didn’t have any bumps that he had to adjust to. Whenever he stayed the night, Brian leaned back on the armchair holding Gus on his lap until the boy’s breathing was calm and even and he was drooling all over his Prada shirt. Only then did he tuck him in bed.

Today, however, Gus had been so excited retelling every game he’d played with the other kids in the playroom, that when he finally fell asleep, Brian had already given in to his own weariness.

Always well-supplied with a small sketchbook and pencils, Justin let him get his rest and sat on the edge of Gus’ bed to draw them. Even asleep, Brian looked protective of Gus, his face tilted towards the boy’s, his big hand laid on his son’s head and his other arm wrapped around him. It had been a while since he’d drawn Brian other than in the form of his fictional _alter ego,_ Rage. He wondered why. Drawing brought watching him to a whole new level, Justin thought, smiling as he smudged the traces of Brian’s lips.

Justin was refining the detail of Gus’ little hand resting on his father’s chest when he sensed someone entering the room. He looked at the door to find a girl staring back at him with wide green eyes. She seemed to be around twelve years old and, like Gus, she had no hair. The girl looked at Brian and Gus sleeping in the chair, then back at Justin.

“Huh… Where’s Lindsay?”

Justin held a finger in front of his lips, asking the girl for silence so father and son wouldn’t wake up, and walked out of the room with her. “Lindsay went home already,” he said.

“Oh… I came to give this back,” the girl said, and only then Justin took notice of the red toy car in her hand. “Gus left it in the playroom.”

“Thanks, that’s nice of you.” Justin went to take the toy from her, but she pulled it back against her chest and gave him a suspicious look.

“I know the hottie in there is Gus’ dad… But who are you?”

Justin smiled at the girl's cheekiness. “My name’s Justin. I’m ‘the hottie’s’ boyfriend.”

“Oh… so you guys are all gay?” she asked, making a face.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Justin confirmed, amused. “So… who are _you_?”

“I’m Maggie. Professional about-to-die-kid,” she declared, handing the toy car to him.

Justin took it, disconcerted by her attitude. “So… you also have…?”

“Cancer? No! I just thought this haircut went well with my round face,” she scoffed, running a hand over her smooth head in a diva-like way that made Justin chuckle in spite of himself. “I’ve got leukemia too. It first came up when I was nine. That made me a high-risk case," she told, as someone who shows a medal of honor. "You know, younger kids like Gus, from two to six years old, give or take… those are the lower risk, the ones who’re more likely to make it. Older that that… things get more complicated.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Justin commented. “I mean, for someone so young.”

“Young? Please! I’m thirteen. Around here, that makes me ancient,” she asserted. “And if I’m gonna die from it, the least I can do is get to know what it’s all about. Plus, I really like these things. If I survive, I wanna be a doctor.”

Justin cringed inside. The casual way in which this girl talked about her disease and the risk it posed to her life impressed him. He realized that this wasn’t a child who didn’t grasp the seriousness of the issue, but rather a person that knew exactly what was going on and had already learned how to live with it. It was a good thing, he supposed, except for the fact that it should never have to happen.

“You don’t look like you’re dying to me,” Justin said.

Maggie chuckled. “Oh, yeah? You should’ve seen me after the chemo.”

“I know it’s bad, I’ve seen Gus,” Justin admitted. “But that’s something you need to do to get better, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re preaching to the choir there, I was just teasing ya… Anyway, after four years, you kinda get used to it.”

Justin’s eyes widened. “Four… You’ve been under treatment for four years?”

“Not all the time,” Maggie said. “I’ve done it all – chemo, radio… - but I got a couple of years off, or so. I’ve been clean for quite a while, actually. But now it came back… Oh, don’t make that face, it was to be expected. It’s a good thing that it wasn’t sooner.”

“So… you’re back to the chemo now.”

Maggie nodded. “I’m gonna have a bone marrow transplant as soon as I achieve remission again. My big brother will be the donor. So… I guess it’s gonna be a while before my spirit comes to haunt this aisle,” she said, crooking her fingers into fake claws with an impish grin.

“I’m sure it’ll be a long while,” Justin said, amused and hoping his words turned out to be true. “Gus is supposed to have the transplant too…”

“No shit!” Maggie uttered, surprised. “Right after the first remission?”

“Y… Yeah,” Justin confirmed. He didn’t like the look on the girl’s face.

“That’s crappy! They don’t do that unless… huh… I mean…” she hesitated at noticing the apprehensive way Justin was eyeing her. “It’s not… the standard procedure. But that doesn’t mean that he can’t make it or anything like that,” she reassured. Justin wasn’t very convinced. “Listen, I’ve been in and out of this place for years, and I’ve known a lot of kids with leukemia. Some were regular cases, some were complicated cases… but believe it or not, most of them actually made through it.”

Justin nodded, wanting to get some hope from her words and realizing how difficult it was. He found himself disclosing his deepest fears to this unknown girl, something that he could never do with Brian. “I’m really worried," he confessed. "They didn’t even find a matching donor for him yet, even though they tested most of his relatives…”

“Yeah, it happens often…” Maggie considered. “But it’s no reason for despair, they can still find an unrelated donor. I mean, there are millions of voluntaries, and new ones are registering every day.” 

“I know…” Justin mused, a slight frown creasing his brow as a number of different thoughts rolled around inside his head. “You’re right…”

Taking his expression for disheartenment, Maggie tried to cheer him up. “You know, people always think that children are more fragile, because they’re smaller and… softer. But that’s not true,” she declared. “Against a disease like this one, they’re actually stronger. I think that’s because they don’t have any expectations, good or bad. They don’t stop to wonder if they’re still gonna be here the next year, if they’ll be back to school by then, or if they’re gonna be dead. They just… deal with the bad stuff when it comes, you know? And when it’s over, they move on, there’s no dwelling on it. So most of the time, they don’t suffer as much as you old people do. Not in here, anyway,” she said, pointing her forehead.

Justin smiled at her. That she would try to brighten his mood when she was going through hard times herself told a lot about this girl. “You’re quite the sage for…”

“For someone so young. I know, I know,” she said, smug. She pointed the sketchbook Justin was holding. “What’s that?”

 “This? It’s just my sketches,” he said, showing her the almost finished drawing of Brian and Gus.

“Wow! That’s so cool!” Maggie said, eyeing the drawing in wonder. “You’re an artist or something?”

“Something like that, yeah."

“Can you draw me?” For once, she sounded just like the little girl she was.

“Sure. I…”

“Hey! What’s with all the noise out here?” Brian protested with a muffled voice, walking out of the room and closing the door behind himself. “I just put the kid in bed.”

“Sorry, Brian,” Justin said.

“Hello, Brian!” Maggie greeted with a wide grin and honey all over her voice.

“Hey… Magpie,” Brian replied.

Justin expected Maggie to scoff or make some kind of sarcastic remark. Instead, she giggled the girliest of giggles and blushed. “I brought Gus’ car.”

“What?”

Justin showed Brian the toy car, biting his lip not to laugh at the girl’s flirting.

“Oh. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Maggie squeaked, blushing further. “I gotta go back now. I escaped while my mom was asleep,” she added, conspiratorial, trying to impress Brian with her rebellious act. “See you tomorrow!”

Justin and Brian exchanged amused looks as she ran down the corridor.

“Making new friends?” Brian gibed.

“Yeah. She’s a nice girl. And we have a lot in common.”

“You’re both obnoxious know-it-alls?”

“We also seem to share a taste in men,” Justin added, holding Brian around the waist.

Brian gave him a wry look before kissing his temple and pulled him along up the corridor. “Wanna go for a coffee?”

“How do you expect to have any sleep when you drink coffee this late?” Justin reproached, walking with him.

“I don’t.”

At that hour in the evening, the hospital’s cafeteria was almost empty and very quiet, so they got their drinks and sat down in silence.

Justin played distractedly with Gus’ toy car over his sketchbook, thinking about all the things Maggie had said - about Gus, about dealing with the bad stuff when it comes.

Sipping his coffee, Brian observed Justin. The younger man was unusually pensive. His reaction to the news that he would move from the hotel had also been unexpected. Brian knew that he'd be surprised, but he had never thought that it would be in a bad way. For some reason, it seemed to have gotten Justin in a gloomy mood. It made him wonder if there was something else going on.

“So… nothing really happened?” Brian asked, out of nowhere.

“Huh?” Justin raised his eyes to him, at a loss.

“Chris Hobbs. He didn’t show up again, you didn’t see him anywhere…?”

Justin’s brow twitched. Why did Brian have to be so perceptive sometimes? “No. I told you, I didn’t see him again,” he assured.

It wasn’t a lie, although Justin had no illusions. He knew that he was deceiving Brian, but he thought it was a necessary evil. Justin wouldn’t place another burden on his partner when this was a situation only him, Justin, could solve.

_Deal with the bad stuff when it comes. When it’s over, move on._

_Yes,_ Justin decided then. _I have to call him._

Brian was about to add something when his cellphone rang, startling both of them.

“What now?” Brian grumbled, searching inside his pockets for the device, before picking up. “Hello?”

"Hi... Brian?"

Justin watched Brian’s face turn from a frown into a mask of surprise.

“Claire?”

“Yeah… listen… I’ve-I’ve been thinking…” Brian’s sister stuttered over the phone. “How did you say this transplant thing works?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming this far! :) As always, comments are very much appreciated ;)


	10. A second chance

 

“That’s Hanna Parker,” Maggie said, pointing a six-year-old girl who was sitting in the playroom’s carpet with Gus and a couple of other kids, all of them playing with building blocks. “B lymphoblastic leukemia, just achieved first remission. She’s Gus’ girlfriend.”

“Really?” Justin observed the kids, amused.

“Or so he says. I never asked _her_.”

It was Sunday after lunch and Justin had been sitting at one of the small tables in the playroom drawing Maggie, as promised, while Brian watched over Gus. Now, Brian had left for a smoke and Justin was covering for him, applying the finishing touch to his work in the meantime. Not that Gus needed to be watched over all the time. He was already familiar with the hospital staff. Only his parents didn’t like to leave him out of sight of familiar eyes. Meanwhile, keeping her chin-on-palm pose, Maggie introduced the other kids in the room, by name and diagnosis, as if she was already their doctor.

“The one with the picture book over there is Ken Sharpe. He’s got a pilocytic astrocytoma.”

“A… what?”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “It’s a brain tumor.”

Justin cringed. “That’s horrible! Poor kid…”

“Meh, it sounds worse than it is. His treatment is going well. Everything indicates that he’ll be fine.”

Justin eyed the boy with doubt. “Oh… ok.”

“Now, if you want a complicated case, that’s Rose Norrington. She’s…”

Justin _didn’t_ want a complicated case, so he thanked the heavens for Michael’s entry into the playroom in that moment.

“Hey, Michael! Over here!”

Maggie undid the pose and pouted at being ignored, by contrast with the wide smile Michael brought as he got near them. “Hey!” he greeted. “So, I talked to the guys, and they wanna do it.”

Justin nodded in approval. “Cool.”

“Where’s Brian?” Michael asked, looking around. “I wanna tell him.”

Justin grabbed his arm and gave him a pointed look. “You’re _not_ going to tell him.”

“Why not? I’m sure he’d like to know that we’re all gonna…”

“This is just a meek try, Michael,” Justin cut off. “A long shot.”

 “’A long shot’ is an understatement.” Maggie scoffed. “You know what the chance is, of something coming out of that?”

Michael and Justin glared at her.

“Huh… It’s… not zero, actually, so… go for it! Why not?” she concluded, with a lopsided smile.

“Mikey!” Detecting Michael’s arrival, Gus walked to them, holding a little girl’s hand.

“Hey, Gus!” Michael smiled, crouching so he could kiss him on the cheek. “Who’s your friend?”

“Donna. She’s my _girlfriend_.”

“I thought Hanna was your girlfriend,” Justin said.

“Hanna’s my other girlfriend,” Gus stated, unfazed.

“Oh… Of course,” Justin said, hiding a smile.

“If we’d ever doubted that he was Brian’s son…” Michael muttered to Justin.

“What’s that?” Gus asked, pointing the paper sheet on the small table.

Justin showed him the drawing.

“It’s Maggie!” Donna affirmed.

“No, it’s not. _I’m_ Maggie. That’s a picture,” Maggie said, flicking Donna’s forehead. The little girl didn’t get it, but giggled anyway and ran back to her other friends.

Justin finished the drawing with his signature and handed it to Maggie.

“Thanks!” The girl stared at her own face in charcoal with a delighted smile.

“You better keep that. It might be worth a lot of money when he dies,” Michael told her.

Pulling Gus onto his lap so he could doodle on the sketchpad, Justin gave Michael a droll look. “Thank you very much.”

“It was a compliment!” Michael assured. “And… speaking of artistic endeavors…”

Justin rolled his eyes. “No, McLain hasn’t given me an answer yet…”

Michael huffed. “Wasn’t he supposed to say something by the end of the week?”

“Well, technically, we’re now at the end of the week,” Justin pointed out.

“Tell them you have a much more interesting proposition from another store and you’re taking back the offer,” Brian, coming back from his smoking break, suggested.

He went to pick up Gus, but seeing how entertained he was, sitting on Justin’s lap and drawing, he settled for caressing the boy’s bald head.

“No way, we can’t do that,” Michael affirmed. “This is our only chance so far. And with the store opening only in part time now, I could use the extra income.”

“Why don’t you hire someone to back up Hunter?” Justin asked.

“That’s one of the reasons why I could use the extra income,” Michael said, matter-of-factly.

“Then stand up for it,” Brian insisted.

“I'm not sure if the guy would go with it,” Justin considered.

“Ok. Act submissive and desperate then, see if it works for you,” Brian deadpanned.

“I think Brian is right,” Maggie stated, smiling widely at him.

Michael rolled his eyes, amused. “Of course you do.”

“I think he’s right too,” Justin admitted. “Still… it’s a risky move.”

“Why, are you afraid, Sunshine?” Brian teased.

“Are you daring me?” Justin chuckled.

“Hey! Nobody’s taking any dare involving my comic book!” Michael protested.

“A compromise, then,” Justin said. “If tomorrow he doesn’t have an answer for us, we put the extra pressure on him.”

Michael frowned. “And where do I stand in that ‘compromise’?”

“You’ll see your comic’s sales increase, that’s where you stand,” Brian declared.

“You’re very confident,” Michael grumbled.

“And you should be grateful for the free advice,” Brian retorted, before placing a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “You said your goodbyes yet?”

Justin shook his head. “Just to the guys and Debbie. I was waiting for Mel and Linds to come back from lunch.”

Gus raised his big eyes from his doodles, suddenly aware. “You’re going away again, Da?”

Brian made a wan smile and stroked his son’s cheek. “No, sonny-boy. I’m still staying here.”

“He’s just taking me to the airport,” Justin reassured.

“Why _you_ have to go?” Gus asked Justin, with a frown.

“Well… the place where I live and work is very far from here, in New York. That’s why I can’t stay in here all the time.”

Gus looked from Justin to Brian, his intrigued brow still furrowed. “Mommy and Momma live in the same house… Why you and Justin don’t live in the same house?”

Michael looked down at his feet and even Maggie pursed her lips and became suddenly very interested in the ceiling.

Brian’s eyes met Justin’s, finding in there the same intense emotion that he felt in his own chest, one he couldn’t quite name. His eyelids fluttered as he tried to look back at Gus to answer his question without wavering. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“Oh, there you are!” Lindsay exclaimed, as she walked to them followed by Melanie, making all five heads turn to look at them. “I was afraid you might have left already.”

“Saved by the bell…” Maggie muttered under her breath in a sing-song voice. Michael gave her an admonishing look.

Brian looked at Justin again, but he was now smiling at the girls, a pretty smile that couldn’t reach his eyes.

As they went back to the hotel, Brian and Justin exchanged very few words and even those felt wrong, as if there was something entirely different that they should be saying instead.

Justin didn’t have all that many things to pack, just the clothes that he'd brought for the weekend, but he took his time doing it. Brian didn’t like to see him pack. It always brought him back to that one time when he thought that he was leaving for good. Even so, he sat on the bed by Justin’s duffel bag as he filled it with his belongings.

“Am I forgetting something?” Justin asked, looking inside the bag. “I gotta make sure I don’t leave anything behind ‘cause this time I won’t come back.” Noticing Brian’s face at his words, he added. “Next week you’ll be in the apartment already, right?”

“Right…”

They stared at each other for an awkward moment before Justin went back to rummaging through his luggage. “Right… so… I’ve got the tooth brush…”

“Don’t worry so much.”

“Razors… all the underwear…”

“If you forget something, I keep it for you,” Brian said.

“…my belt… the magazines… Where’s that black shirt that I…”

“Justin.”

Justin finally let the bag alone and raised his eyes to Brian. He looked into them, coming closer to squeeze Justin’s shoulders.

“I want you to know something,” Brian said, his palms sliding gently down Justin’s arms. “That wherever you’re living, and wherever _I’m_ living… my place is always your place… whenever you want it to be.”

Justin smiled and made a tentative nod, before planting a kiss on Brian’s lips and hugging him tight around the waist. Brian put his arms around him as well, basking in the warmth of Justin’s body against his.

Justin buried his face in the crook of Brian’s neck. Having his arms around him, he could notice how much weight he’d lost since the first time he’d met him in this same hotel room. It was scary.

“I want to tell you something too,” Justin declared, pulling back from the hug. “If you ever… feel down… If you need someone to yell at or… or to give you a blowjob!...” Brian chuckled. “…Or for whatever other reason… I want you to call me, I’ll come back right away,” Justin assured, before cupping Brian’s cheeks. “Because… we’re partners, right? And partners aren’t just for the good times.”

Brian smiled. “You know I was never very good at this ‘partners’ thing…” he said, meaning _I’m not sure if I’ll do that._ He spread soft, feather-like kisses over Justin’s parted lips, causing goose bumps to form on his back. “… but I’m willing to learn,” he added, meaning _I love you, though._

Justin sealed Brian’s lips with his. He understood.

 

 

“Believe it or not, I am sorry,” Claire said.

“Not as much as I am,” Brian deadpanned.

It was Monday morning, and they were walking side by side down the hospital’s aisle towards the playroom. They’d just gotten to know that Brian’s sister didn’t match with Gus to be his bone marrow donor.

“Did you tell mom about this?” Claire asked.

“I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

“Do you… want me to tell her?”

“What for?” Brian scoffed.

“I don’t know…” Claire admitted. “For one, she’d probably move to the church altogether, saving me the trouble to carry her back and forth.”

Brian huffed. “Is Butterfield still running that thing?” He wasn’t sure why he’d asked. He supposed people were required to ask something in these instances.

“Yes, thank God,” Claire sighed. “That man has an enormous patience with her.”

“Yeah, I recall him having some enormous qualities,” Brian remarked, as they arrived at the playroom.

He searched for Gus with his eyes and found him looking at a book with one of the teenagers who did voluntary work at the hospital.

“Hey, Gus. Come here.”

At hearing his father’s voice, Gus walked to him. Brian knew that, before the disease and all the treatments had brought him down, Gus would have run. It hurt to know. He kissed his son's head when he picked him up.

“Gus, this is your aunt Claire. You wanna say 'hi' to her?”

“Hi, Aunt Claire,” Gus murmured, shy, hiding half of his face on Brian’s neck.

Claire smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Gus,” she said, stroking his cheek.

The boy made a small smile at her. He already knew when grown-ups expected him to smile, and he didn’t mind pleasing them. “Can I go back to the story, Da?”

Brian put him down. “Sure, go to your story.”

“He’s adorable,” Claire said, as they watched the boy go back to the young volunteer. “Looks a bit like you when you were his age. The eyes, I think… And something around the mouth too.”

“Yeah…” Brian said, smiling a bit when Gus began to ‘read’ out loud. “Hopefully, that’s all he’ll ever have that resembles me.”

 

 

 

The mall was full of people in that afternoon, but Justin walked alone. Colin no longer followed him everywhere. He’d asked, or rather, ordered him not too. It had been difficult to convince him. Justin supposed that he still felt guilty for letting Hobbs inside their house.

As he got closer and closer to the ice cream stand, his steps got slower and slower, until he stopped altogether right before turning the corner that would bring the arranged spot into his sight. He leaned on the wall beside a cosmetics shop and took a deep breath.

_Am I really doing this?_

Justin looked back, to the way he'd come. He could still back away, pretend Hobbs never showed up at his house, that he'd never left a message on his phone, that he, Justin, hadn't called him back and that they hadn't ended up arranging a meeting in the most crowded place Justin could think of, during the most awkward phone call of his life. Yes, he could do that. The most likely result would be Hobbs not leaving him alone anytime soon.

_No. I've got to get this over with, once and for all._

Hardening his resolve - and his expression - Justin turned the corner and his gaze darted to the ice cream stand. The fact that he didn't see Hobbs right away made him more nervous. Knowing that he was around, Justin would rather have him within his sight.

The next moment, Justin spotted him. He was sitting at one of the small tables surrounding the stand, with his back to him - that's why he'd missed him at first glance. Again, Justin felt the urge to run away from there. Hobbs presence didn't terrify him anymore, but it still caused a cold form of revulsion that ran even deeper than sheer terror.

He forced his legs to move forward, get closer, go around the table and face his demons.

Chris Hobbs all but jumped from his chair when Justin showed before him, a startled jolt that made his knees hit the underside of the table. "Taylor!" he uttered. "You came."

"Wasn’t I supposed to?" Justin asked, biting.

"Yeah..." Hobbs rubbed his forehead, taking the chance to avert his eyes.

Justin took the chair opposite of him, his eyes not leaving his figure for a single second. That had been a strange reaction. He took notice of Hobbs unusual demeanor as well - hunched back, hands twitching on his lap, face tilted down - nothing like the arrogant jock that he remembered. For some reason, it made him uncomfortable.

Justin folded his arms over his chest. "So? Will this happen today, or...?"

"I'm sorry," Chris blurted out.

Justin raised his brows, still waiting to hear the reason why he was here.

"I wanted to tell you," Hobbs stuttered. "That I'm really... very sorry... that I hit you."

Justin clenched his teeth. The apology didn’t reach him. He could feel nothing but disgust toward the fact that Hobbs would not only subject him to his presence, but also bring up that subject again. "I seem to recall that you already told me that."

"Yeah... I..." Hobbs rubbed his forehead in a nervous gesture. "I thought you'd actually believe it… now that I'm not..." his voice died down.

"...with a gun down your throat?" Justin completed.

Chris fidgeted on his chair, pushing it an inch backwards in the process.

"Well, you shouldn't have bothered," Justin said, with his best Brian-like false smile. "Why didn't you just send a card? It would've been cheaper and less trouble."

"I needed to talk to you in person... I needed you to..."

"To what?" Justin uttered. "'Cause if you're looking for forgiveness, you better turn to Jesus or some of those guys who forgive anything, because I don't. Especially not murderers."

Hobbs eyes widened in indignation. "I'm not..."

"You are!" Justin cut off. "Brian is right, you _are_ a murderer. It was just by chance that I didn't die that night."

"I never wanted to kill you," Hobbs affirmed.

"Of course you didn't! 'Cause if I had died, you'd be in jail to this day!"

"No..." Hobbs murmured in protest, shaking his head.

"Yes! Yes, that was the only reason for you to want me alive. You never even bothered to pretend that you regretted it,” Justin recalled, disgusted. Hobbs averted his eyes, his brows furrowed. “First time you saw me after the incident, you told me that I would get AIDS, as if you were wishing for it to happen. And the second time, years passed... You still despised me, as if I didn't deserve to be alive. As if I was like you!"

He expected Hobbs to be mad at the insult. Or maybe, since he seemed to be up for amendments, to use some pretext to excuse his behavior. What Justin didn't expect was to see his eyes widen, as if in a panic, before he buried his face on his palms and began to sob. Silent sobs, the kind that's only noticed by seeing the trembling shoulders, by hearing the ocasional sharp intake of breath.

As the man before him shed quiet tears that slid in between his fingers, Justin didn’t know what to do or what to say. He was prepared for everything but this. He briefly considered leaving, only to find out that he couldn’t. So he stood there, just staring, waiting for Hobbs to calm down, or explode, or something.

Eventually, Hobbs wiped his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, pulling himself together. “That… I know I shouldn’t have said that,” he stated, facing the table before him.

Justin let out a huff of contempt.

Hobbs continued to speak to the tabletop, his face twisted in anguish. “It’s just… every time you were around… I was so fucking scared…”

“Scared? Of what?” Justin scoffed with skepticism. “You were afraid you might catch my faggotness and start longing for my ass?”

“I was scared because I already did!” Chris blurted.

“What?”

Hobbs looked down at his hands, biting his lip. “You know… back in high school… I knew that some guys picked on you, calling you a faggot and stuff but… I thought there was nothing to it. I never thought you’d actually… come out. I mean, who would admit to be a fa… to be… gay… right? But you did, and I... it didn’t make sense to me, and… suddenly I… I began wondering about things… things that had never crossed my mind before...” He peeked at Justin, whose face now gave away his astonishment, as much as he didn't want it to. Hobbs looked down again, his frown deepening. “Every time I looked at you, I wondered… I wondered how it would feel like to… to touch you… to kiss you…” He ran both hands through his hair. “I didn’t know how to deal with that! And then… that time in the athletic room, you…” he fidgeted, obviously still uncomfortable with the memory. Or maybe too comfortable for his liking. “After that, it only got worse... I freaked out!”

Justin stared at him, unsure of what to do with his confession. He’d realized back then that Hobbs might be at least a bit curious – he’d let Justin jerk him off, after all. He’d just never considered that it could have affected him so deeply.

Justin had always known that he liked men better than women. He’d understood that it might turn out to be a problem when it came the time to tell his parents, and other people, but at least he’d always realized that there was no changing it or keeping it at bay. It was difficult for him to understand how some people tried to do that.

“I just... I couldn’t deal with those thoughts, and I couldn’t act on them either,” Hobbs muttered, looking at his palms.

“So... since you wouldn’t kiss me, you tried to kill me. Is that it?” Justin sneered.

“It's not that simple... I wasn’t like you! I wasn’t…” Hobbs pressed his lips together.

“A fag?”

“Brave,” Hobbs finished. “I just wasn’t brave enough… I’m _still_ not brave enough…”

Justin eyed the troubled man before him, guarded. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Hobbs gave him an ‘isn’t-it-obvious’ look. “Because there’s no one else I can tell it to!”

“What, you don’t have friends, or…”

“They wouldn’t be my friends anymore if I told them,” Chris mumbled.

“Some friends...” Justin uttered. “Just go find some real ones.”

“I can’t,” Hobbs insisted, shaking his head. “I just can’t, ok? I’ve been in therapy for almost a year and even so I… I can’t…”

“You went to see a therapist ‘cause of your fantasizing with guys?” Justin asked in disbelief.

“No. I went because _a guy_ pointed a gun at me," Hobbs grumbled. "I couldn't leave my house for nearly a month after that... I had all sorts of weird nightmares... still do, sometimes..." He raised his eyes at Justin. "So... I guess now I know what it feels like."

From all the things Hobbs had revealed, those words shocked Justin the most because he didn't sound accusatory, just resigned, broken, and truthful. Justin could now tell what made him uncomfortable about Hobbs guarded, permanently anxious, posture - it was just like his, after the bashing. That was the point when Justin thought that he should, maybe, feel a tinge of compassion for the guy. But he didn't.

"No, you don't," Justin affirmed. "You have _no idea_ what it feels like to wake up in an hospital bed completely lost, not knowing what happened, wondering if you're about to die. You don't know what it's like to be told that the thing you love the most to do, the thing you planned to make a living from, might be out of your reach forever. And I'm sure that you also don't have a clue of what it's like to know that a certain blank in your mind should contain one of the most beautiful memories of your life but now it's just... not there."

Hobbs stared at him, wide-eyed, throughout the whole rant. Then he looked down. "You really... forgot everything?" he asked, tentative.

"Yeah. Later, I recalled being hit, but before that it's just... flashes," Justin said.

Hobbs seemed lost in thought for a moment. "That guy in your apartment... It was him, wasn't it? The one who danced with you?"

"Yes, that was him," Justin almost smiled, but caught himself before it was too late.

"So you guys are still together..." Hobbs uttered, pensive. "I thought you gays just fucked around."

"We do," Justin deadpanned. "Now, since we are over with the therapy session, would you explain to me how the fuck did you find where I lived?"

"Oh, that? It was much easier than I thought, actually,” Hobbs said. “I couldn't approach your family so... I went to that bar I saw you walk into once, Woody's… I asked the barman about you. He said you hadn't showed up in a few weeks, but he didn't know why, so he asked some of the customers, until someone said you used to go to this club, Babylon. Then I went there - the line went on forever, it was a special night or something - and asked some of the guys. A lot of them knew who you were, but they didn't know of your wereabouts... Finally, I found someone that heard from a friend of a friend that you'd moved to New York. That's when I thought that I would never find you in a million years, but then I had a sort of epiphany and Googled 'Justin Taylor, artist, New York'. I found the website of this gallery announcing an exhibition... They had your picture in there, so there was no doubt about it. I called them and they gave me your adress and phone number."

"They gave it to you? Just like that?" Justin uttered, astonished.

"Well, I pretended to be calling from another gallery..."

"Those fucking idiots..." Justin grumbled.

"I, actually... since I was in New York, I took the chance and dropped by to see your stuff," Chris confessed, a bit awkwardly.

Justin's eyes widened. Right when he thought that he'd heard everything."You went to the exhibition?"

Hobbs nodded. "I liked some of the... huh... paintings. My favorite was this one called... _Missed_... _Missing_? Something like that... It was weird..." He managed a chuckle. "Well, they were all weird, but that one just had something that... Are you alright?"

With his elbows propped up on the table, Justin held his head in both his hands, overwhelmed. He felt like he'd jumped into a parallel world, a world where he chattered with Chris Hobbs at the mall, and Chris Hobbs opined on his art.

When Justin felt Hobbs fingers on his wrist, he jerked his hand back as he'd just been burnt. "Don't touch me!"

Heads around them turned to look at him, and Hobbs raised his hands, alarmed. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"I gotta go." Justin stood up and pushed his chair onto its initial place with jerky movements. "Just do me a favor: when you get back home, burn whatever it was that you wrote my number and adress on and just... forget that I exist? It'll do you good."

Justin took a longer way back home to clear the haze inside his head. There were several lines that he'd decided he couldn't cross during this meeting, yet he felt he'd just crossed one that he hadn't even thought of.

Colin dropped the sketchpad he was scribbling on at seeing Justin walk into the studio, looking like he’d just been lobotomized. “Christ! What took you so long? Did he do anything?”

Justin dragged himself to sit onto his bed. “No. We just talked.”

Colin approached, curious. “So, what is it? What did he have to say?”

“I’d rather not talk about that right now…”

“Oh…” Colin eyed him with apprehension. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” Justin said, uncertain.

“Well… I have some news that might sheer you up!” Colin said, trying a lighter tone.

“What?”

“Eric called,” Colin said, succeeding in getting Justin’s attention. “Looks like he’s been bombarded with e-mails and phone calls asking when’s _Rage_ going to be on sale, if he’s gonna have the initial numbers, if there’s gonna be some kind of releasing event, and so on, and so forth.”

“How did that happen?”

“You know how Heather is a part of every kind of hardcore comic fan community on the web? Well, she’s been sharing a few samples of the first couple of issues, publicizing it… and she might have implied that Eric selling it was a sure thing. I guess it’s paying off.”

“So, he wants it?” Justin asked in expectation.

“As many copies as you can, as soon as you can send them,” Colin announced.

“Yes!” Justin jumped from the bed in triumph. “I’m gonna call Michael.” Michael would be happy that they wouldn’t have to use the ‘take it or leave it’ approach. And he would have something to distract him from the dreadful conversation.

“Oh, and someone called from Toronto,” Colin added.

“Brian?”

“No, it was from the hospital.”

Justin frowned. “The hospital?”

“Yeah. They left a number for you to return the call. You’re supposed to ask for a Dr. Campbell.”

 

 

 

Tuesday evening, Gus threw a temper tantrum because he didn’t want to have dinner. The latest treatment had left him sick again. Melanie and Brian were by his bedside having a nearly silent discussion. He maintained that it was best to leave the boy alone and let him rest this one time, she insisted that Gus had to eat something, while Lindsay just sat on the bed with one hand on his son’s and the other to her temple.

That’s when Justin walked into the room under six pairs of surprised eyes. He wasn't expected back before the next weekend.

“What are you doing here?” Brian uttered.

“I… huh… had some stuff to take care of,” Justin evaded, looking around the room in search for someone. “Dr. Campbell… he’s not here yet?”

“Was he supposed to?” Melanie asked, confused. “What…?”

“Ah, you’re all here,” Dr. Campbell said, entering the room right on cue. “That’s perfect.” He turned to Justin. “Mr. Taylor, I just got your test results and you’re negative for everything so… I guess we have a green light.”

“That’s great,” Justin said, joy and relief crossing his face.

“What test results? There’s something wrong with you?” Brian asked, concerned.

“Don’t worry, he’s perfectly healthy,” Dr. Campbell assured. “Which, in the case at hand, is particularly fortunate.” The doctor lay a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “We finally have a suitable donor.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... And with this I hope you no longer think I'm a terrible person who does nothing but put your favorite character through all kinds of suffering... Or maybe you still do... But I promise I'll try to show you otherwise before it's over :P
> 
> Anyways... hope you enjoyed it... comment maybe? ;)


	11. Art Imitating Life

 

“We had no idea you’d gotten tested!”

“When did this happen?”

After Gus had fallen asleep, Justin, Brian, Melanie and Lindsay went to have something to eat in a diner nearby. While Brian remained oddly silent beside Justin, the mothers, sitting opposite of them, were bursting out with questions, still not quite believing the good news.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“You’ve talked everything through with the doctor, right?"

“If you let him speak, he might tell you something,” Brian intervened.

“Oh, I’m sorry, just… go ahead!” Melanie urged.

Justin chuckled. He didn’t mind the girls’ eagerness. He himself was more hopeful than he'd ever been since he’d known of Gus’ disease. “We all got tested this past weekend.”

“You all…?”

“Michael, Emmett, Ted and I,” Justin said. “Of course Debbie also wanted to, but she was too old. And Ben and Hunter… they can’t, so…”

“Oh my god, you guys…” Lindsay covered her mouth with both hands, moved.

“You should have told us you were doing this,” Melanie said, her wide smile causing the admonishing tone to fade.

Justin shrugged. “Honestly, we didn’t think it was possible that any of us was a match… but we had to try. Yesterday, when Dr. Campbell told me… I couldn’t believe it!”

“You’ve known about this since yesterday?” Lindsay exclaimed. “And you didn’t tell us?”

“Yeah… The doctor asked me not to tell anything before talking to him,” Justin said. “It’s standard procedure. They have to make sure that the donors are well informed about how the collecting procedure works, the risks involved, before actually accepting…”

“Risks? What risks?” Brian interrupted.

Justin turned to look at him, almost surprised that he’d talked. “Oh, it’s no big deal. It requires general anesthesia, and there’s always a small risk associated with that, but the doctor said that, for a guy with my age and in good physical shape, it’s negligible.”

 Brian nodded and looked down at the table, with a small frown that Justin couldn’t understand.

“Justin, I…” Lindsay hesitated. “I don’t even know what to say… how to thank you…”

“There’s nothing to thank for,” Justin dismissed. “I’m just… really happy that I can be of help. Like, really!”

Disregarding what he said, Lindsay stood up from her seat to throw his arms around Justin in a breathtaking hug.

“Huh… take it easy!” Justin chuckled as Lindsay crushed his ribs. “If you choke me I’ll be of no use.”

“Yeah, speaking of that…” Melanie intervened when Lindsay took her seat again. “I really can’t express how thankful I am that you’re doing this, and I didn’t want to be a total control freak…” She hesitated.

Justin raised his brows. “But…?”

“Well, it’s great that you tested negative for all those transmittable diseases and… maybe it would be a good idea for you to refrain from certain… risky behaviors… before the transplant is done?”

Justin smiled. “Ok, I get it. No fucking around for me. No problem.”

Melanie, however, didn’t look satisfied yet. “Yeah… you know how these things go. All it takes is one time… with someone that engages in said risky behaviors… we never know, right?” She not-so-subtly eyed Brian.

“Oh…” Justin exchanged looks with Brian. “That… makes sense.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Brian said to Melanie.

She smiled. “I knew you’d understand.”

Later that night, when they arrived at the hotel room Justin thought he would never get back to, Brian poured a glass of whiskey for himself, in silence.

Justin was still intrigued by his apparent apathy. “Brian… is there something wrong? Aren’t you happy that Gus can have the transplant?”

“Of course I’m happy,” Brian deadpanned. “Want some?” he asked, showing him the bottle.

“No, thanks,” Justin frowned. “You have a weird way to show it, then…” He followed Brian to the couch, where he sat before taking a large gulp of his drink. “This is not because the risks I talked about, is it?” Justin tried. “Because, it’s really not that big of a deal!”

“I know,” Brian muttered.

“What then?”

Brian gave him an uncertain look. He couldn’t tell Justin what it was, because he himself couldn’t pinpoint the origin of his uneasiness. There was nothing he wanted more than his son having the possibility of being treated. Now that possibility was real, and yet…

“Who came up with the idea?” Brian asked.

“What? Of… us getting tested?”

Brian confirmed with a short nod.

“It was me, actually. Maggie was talking to me about how there’s new people registering into the donors’ network everyday, and I though, hell, we should give it a try too.” Justin was surprised, but also relieved that something so simple made Brian’s expression soften. “But Michael, as soon as I mentioned it to him, he said he would do it, and so did the other guys, so it doesn’t really matter who came up with it.”

“Of course not,” Brian said, but it mattered to him. He didn’t like the idea of Justin doing this because of any external pressure. Because even if that was the case, he could never tell him not to help his son.

He stroked the back of Justin’s head, tousling his blond hair a bit, before bringing his lips to the younger man’s for a soft but lingering kiss. When Brian broke the kiss, Justin had a glimpse of his smile before he hugged him tight. Brian buried his face on the crook of Justin’s neck, thanking everything, everyone, for having him.

“There’s something else I wanted to tell you,” Justin murmured, after a while. “It’s… a good thing too, I guess.”

“Oh?”

“It’s about Hobbs.”

Brian’s expression darkened. “How’s that a good thing?”

“It is, because turns out we had nothing to worry about,” Justin stated, trying to sound cheery.

Brian raised his brows, waiting for more.

“I met him,” Justin confessed, at last. “But everything’s fine, he just wanted to talk,” he hurried to add, seeing Brian’s face.

“What did the scumbag have to tell you?”

“Basically, that he was fucked up in the head,” Justin summed up.

Brian rolled his eyes. “As if we didn’t know that already.”

Justin retold the whole conversation. Well, all of it except that last part, about Hobbs visiting his exhibition. He didn’t know why, but that made him more uncomfortable than anything else Hobbs had told him and he preferred not to mention it, or think of it, ever again.

Brian scoffed. “So the guy’s a fag, is that it?”

“I’m not sure… but he sure as hell wanted really bad not to be one," Justin considered.

Brian's scowl revealed enough of his feelings about the issue. “So… why did he tell you all this? Why now?”

Justin shrugged. “I guess his therapist pushed some buttons and he had to vent out? I don’t know. The important thing is, it’s done, it’s over. He’s talked, he won’t bug me anymore.”

Brian wasn’t so sure about it. It didn’t seem to him that Chris Hobbs had quite gotten what he wanted, whatever that was, and he had come a long way to get it.

Which led Brian to the other thing that nagged at him. “And… he didn’t say who exactly told him? About you being in New York?”

“It was some guy at Babylon. And it was like, fifth hand information, so…” Justin dismissed the subject with a gesture, but Brian wasn’t ready to.

He had been straining his memory to its limits the whole week, trying to recollect if he’d ever mentioned Justin’s whereabouts to someone. He did remember babbling at times, when he was too wasted to filter, but he had no idea of what could’ve come out. For the first time, he was slapped in the face with the fact that his adventures might not affect his own life alone.

Justin eyed Brian with curiosity, trying to decipher what was going on inside his head. “Why’s that matter?” he asked, stroking Brian’s arm.

“It matters… It was too easy for him to find you. We have to make sure something like this won’t happen again.”

“You’re right. I already called the gallery and took them to task for giving over my address without permission,” Justin said, not realizing that by ‘we’, Brian meant himself.

“Yeah, that too…” Brian agreed, absentminded. “Those fuckers…” He laid down the glass and put a cigarette in his mouth.

Justin snatched it away . “You’ve been smoking way too much.”

Brian snatched it back. “I need to keep my hands busy.”

Justin took a hold of Brian’s wrist, keeping him from putting the cigarette back in his mouth. “I could help you with that…” he murmured with an impish grin, leaning so close that Brian could feel his breath on his lips. With a lopsided smile, Brian kissed him once, twice, the cigarette already forgotten. “…that is, if you weren’t off limits for now… Mr. Promiscuous.” Justin pulled back, enjoying the flicker of disappointment in Brian’s eyes.

Justin was disappointed as well, but he acknowledged that Melanie was right. They were unbelievably lucky that he could donate his bone marrow to Gus. They couldn’t jeopardize the boy’s health out of horniness.

Brian understood that too. He wouldn’t mess up again. “Well,” he sighed, looking at the cigarette in his hand, then back at Justin. “Kissing isn’t off limits, is it?”

Justin smiled and shook his head, allowing Brian to take his lips.

Kissing wasn’t off limits, so they kissed, not just with their mouths, but also with their eyes, with their fingertips. Brian’s hands slid up Justin’s back, under his shirt, pulling him on top of himself with a velvety caress.

Brian’s shirt opened, Justin’s ended up on the floor, and their kiss spread from their lips to the rest of their exposed skin. Knowing that they couldn’t go much further, Brian felt Justin’s lips burn even hotter each time they touched him. His hands tousled Justin’s hair, his breath coming out ragged as the younger man’s mouth grazed the skin below his navel.

“Don’t…” he mumbled, against everything his body asked of him.

Justin couldn’t go further down, so he went back up, drawing a wet, sinuous trail up Brian’s chest with the tip of his tongue. Brian gasped when he touched his nipple, and tugged at Justin’s hair, exposing the soft skin of the younger man's neck to the gentle attack of his lips.

Justin moaned and his hips thrust forward, his groin grinding against Brian’s through the fabric of the pants that both of them had valiantly kept on.

Chest on chest, skin on skin, fingers intertwined and breaths intermingled, they got lost in each other’s touch as Justin’s hips swayed to the rhythm of their desire.

“Ah! Sunshine…” Brian breathed onto Justin’s lips, right before letting himself free-fall into an ocean of pleasure, everything around disappearing in a flash of light with beautiful green eyes. When he came back, Justin was nuzzling his jaw lazily, also trying to regain his breath.

“So… here’s what… we’re reduced to,” Brian panted. “Dry humping on the couch... and coming in our pants.”

Justin grinned. “Don’t you feel like a teenager again?”

“Well, Michael does say that I’ll always be young, and beautiful,” Brian considered with a breathy chuckle, fumbling with Justin’s hair.

“He says that?”

“Yup,” Brian confirmed, kissing his chin.

“What a load of bullshit!”

“You think so too?”

They both chuckled and exchanged a delicate smooch.

 “You won’t always be young, no one does. Not you, not me, not anyone.” Justin used his fingers to brush Brian’s hair away from his face. “But… you’ll always be beautiful to me.”

 “Wow…” Brian cupped his cheeks. “I’m not sure if that’s actually very deep… or just better bullshit,” he chuckled.

Justin grinned. “It’s true, though. Now come on.” He got off from the couch and pulled Brian along. “Let’s take a shower.”

In the bathroom, Brian watched Justin remove his pants and underwear, contemplating his body as he thought of everything he’d done with it, and everything he was still thinking of doing. He felt himself begin to harden again, even though he’d just come.

"Are you coming?" Justin asked, stepping inside the shower stall.

"I wish..." Brian grumbled, going after him.

Justin started to soap Brian's chest with a soft smile. "Stop complaining. I'm the one who won't get any for the next few weeks." He let out a whiny grunt at fully realizing what he was up to. "These are gonna be some long weeks..."

“I’m gonna get tested tomorrow," Brian declared.

Justin smiled at him. “You don’t really have to do that…”

“Yes, I do. We can't be too careful. I won’t risk Gus’ best chance at getting cured.”

“No, I mean… _I_ have to go celibate, but there’s no reason for you not to… keep doing your thing,” Justin said, nonchalant. “You just have to stay away from me in the meantime, that’s all.”

Brian stared at him in silence for a moment. “I’m gonna get tested tomorrow,” he repeated.

“You do realize that it’s not just having clean tests, right?” Justin asked. “Afterwards you can’t go back to exposing yourself to…”

“Yeah, I know that.”

"And... we're only together on weekends anyway, so..."

"I know that too." Brian rolled his eyes and turned around. “Can you wash my back?”

“Does that mean you rather do it with me once a week than with other guys whenever you want?” Justin enunciated, teasing.

“It means that I want you to wash my back,” Brian deadpanned, but he couldn’t erase the smile of satisfaction from Justin’s face.

“Ok…” Justin laid his chin on Brian’s shoulder, his hands going around the older man’s torso, one of them sliding up his chest, the other over his stomach and further down. Brian sighed and tilted his head back, as Justin whispered on his ear, “I promise to make it worth it.”

 

 

Michael was glad he’d decided to come back to Pittsburgh for the week. Hunter had managed to keep the comic book store open after school, during the busiest hours, but he needed to recheck the inventory. Plus, with the news that Eric wanted _Rage_ after all, he’d had to print dozens of copies of the past issues with maximum urgency. Of course, the guys from the printer had their own schedule and weren’t very worried about that. Only by Thursday night did he manage to have everything ready.

“This is slave labor!” Hunter protested as he helped Michael pack the comics into their proper boxes to be sent to Eric McLain.

“What are you complaining about? I’m your father and _I’m paying you_ to work for me!” Michael pointed out, separating the volumes by issue on the store’s counter.

“Not for this! I demand being paid for the extra hours or I’ll make a complaint!”

Michael rolled his eyes. “To whom, the annoying teenagers’ union? Now stop peeking at the books and put them inside the boxes. They have to be intact when they get there.”

“You’re the boss, boss…” Hunter grumbled, packing the volumes and sealing the box with adhesive tape. “What’s happening to Rage next? Will his relationship with J.T. hold after being in different planets for so long?”

Michael smiled. “I didn’t think so at first… but yeah, I guess it will.”

“You mean you haven’t worked on the next issue yet? Dude, you have to hurry! If this Eric sells as much of _Rage_ as we do in here, you’ll have your hands full!”

“Yeah, I know… I’m beginning to think that we bit more than we can chew…” Michael confessed, leaning on the counter behind him. “I do have the story outlined, but with Justin and I coming and going to Toronto all the time it’s been difficult to keep the usual pace… And we can’t count on the printer at any time, so…”

"Yeah... You're fucked," Hunter summarized.

"Thanks for cheering me up, sonny dear!" Michael sneered, bringing a pile of books to Hunter for him to pack.

"You're welcome, Pops."

“It’s not that bad," Michael said, going for a second pile of books. "For now, we just... we'll have to come up with something so juicy that the readers would wait any amount of time to know what happens in the next issue.”

“That could work," Hunter considered, sealing a second box. "You know, I think I have something in mind."

Michael leaned on the counter. “Yeah? Let’s hear it, then.”

Hunter laid the tape dispenser down to stand up and expose his idea. “So… Rage is always fucking all these guys, but J.T. doesn’t care, because he knows it’s just fucking and doesn’t mean anything, right?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“What if… Rage actually got _emotionally_ involved with someone else?”

“Wow! That’s… quite a blow! ” Michael uttered, impressed.

"It's great, huh?" Hunter boasted.

"I'm not sure. People love Rage and J.T. together. They might get angry and stop buying the comic altogether," Michael considered with a tentative smile.

"Duh! That's why you won't have the whole thing unfold until the following issue!" Hunter said, rolling his eyes.

“We'll see," Michael conceded. "I'll have to ask Justin what he thinks. I have a feeling that he won't like it."

 

 

Brian watched the seventh applicant sitting before his desk at Kinnetik. She was an elegant brunette in her mid-thirties with obvious Asian ancestry, looking very composed in her executive suit and rectangular eyeglasses. Her résumé was pretty impressive, and she wasn’t trying to influence his decision with her cleavage as some of the other women, nor was she intimidated by him like some of the men. So far so good.

“So, Miss Zhang, as a final question… why should Kinnetik hire you?” he asked. Sitting beside him, Cynthia scribbled some notes.

“I believe my ten years of experience as an advertising executive, seeing that I was an account director for the last three of them, provided me with the know-how, leadership skills and ability to work under pressure that you’re looking for, as stated in the job description,” she recited, as calm and firm as she’d been throughout the whole interview.

Brian resisted the urge to mouth her words as she uttered them. Her answers were so similar to those of the other candidates that he almost knew them by heart. He had no idea how to choose two candidates from this mass, when he was having a hard time picking a single one.

“Alright. Thank you, Miss Zhang. We’ll be in touch,” Brian dismissed, shaking the woman’s hand. He waited for her to leave the office to spin on his chair. “Christ, can these people only give by-the-book answers? We’re a creative firm, for fuck sake!”

“Well, creative or not, she’s your best bet,” Cynthia pointed out. “She and that Goleman guy. They’re the best qualified for the job. I didn’t like him, though.”

“Me neither…” Brian grumbled.

“I think he was afraid that you might jump his pants,” Cynthia said, amused.

Brian scoffed. “In his wet dreams, maybe. You can scratch that one.”

“That doesn’t leave many options.”

“There’s still a couple of them to go, right?” Brian went through the résumés before him.

“One,” Cynthia corrected, handing him the document he was looking for. “Oliver Price.”

“Right…” Brian sighed. “Well, send him in.”

Cynthia walked out of the office as Brian took a hopeless look at the résumé of the last applicant to refresh his memory. He’d selected this Price for his qualifications, even though he had some doubts. He was younger, and therefore less experienced than most of the other applicants. Brian had left him for last because he didn't expect much.

That’s why his brows flew to his hairline as soon as the man walked through the door, followed by Cynthia, who tried to contain a knowing smile at Brian’s expression. Oliver Price was a man in his late twenties, but his boyish face, with big blue eyes and a turned up nose made him look even younger. Brian guessed that it might affect his credibility when looking for a job. Unless, of course, the employer was a woman – or a gay man. Price was very handsome. His short black hair and dark lashes made for an interesting contrast with his fair colored, flawless skin and, judging by the way the executive suit hugged his body, he could as well have been a model.

“Mr. Price. I’m Brian Kinney.” Brian stood up to shake the applicant’s hand while Cynthia took her seat beside him.

Surprise flickered in Price’s eyes at knowing that the man before him was his would-be boss. Brian would swear that he’d given him a quick once over, before looking him straight in the eye with a sober smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Kinney.”

When Brian sat down before the candidate to talk about his résumé, he was hoping that he _wouldn’t_ have to hire him. It was as shame if a man like this one had to go unfucked because of his restricted sex-with-employees policy.

Brian soon recalled that he couldn't have sex with any strangers at present, but what really worked as a cold shower was thinking of Chris Hobbs and the easy way he'd located Justin. It could have been because of him, Brian thought, because he went with anyone and wasn't as safe as he thought he was. Oliver Price became much less attractive all of a sudden.

Despite that, this applicant was a surprise in more ways than one. He had a good attitude – his enthusiasm about working for Kinnetik was honest and obvious - and, unlike the previous ones, some of his answers were anything but standardized.

“My biggest weakness? I’m grumpy in the morning. It never affected my work, though. I’m nice enough for the rest of the time so I tend to be forgiven by all of my colleagues by lunchtime,” he stated, keeping the straightest of faces.

Brian pressed his lips together to hide a smile. “Ok… Now, considering that you’re the less experienced applicant, why do you think we should hire you?”

“Well, being the less experienced applicant, I’d naturally expect to be paid a bit less than my colleagues, yet I can do the job as good, or even better than them, which means you’d be spending less money while obtaining the same quality,” Oliver Price declared, sounding objective rather than boastful. “Plus, I’m good looking.”

Brian raised his brows. “Kinnetik is not a model agency, Mr. Price,” he challenged.

Price wasn’t fazed by it. “Of course not. But, sad as it might be, looks _are_ an influential factor when dealing with the clients. Studies have shown that good looking people are more likely to have success and get what they want, even in criminal trials. So…”

“Point well taken,” Brian admitted, amused. “One last question: where do you see yourself, say, ten years from now?”

For the first time, Price opened a wide smile. “Not very far from where I’m now, actually. Only on the opposite side of this desk.”

When the interview came to an end and the applicant walked out the office’s door, Brian found Cynthia studying him with the same knowing smile as before. “So? What did you think?” he asked.

“The same as you,” she assured with a smirk. “Just with different mechanics.”

Brian rolled his eyes and grabbed the résumés on the desk.

“So, when will we have our winners?” Cynthia asked.

“We already do,” Brian declared, handing her two out of the eight sheets of paper. “It was easier than I though.”

He packed some documents in his briefcase, getting ready to leave, while his assistant checked the chosen candidates. “Alice Zhang,” she read, approving. “Oliver Price? Are you sure?”

“Sell things is what we do,” Brian said, adjusting his jacket. “I’d say Price did a better job of selling himself than anyone else. I like him."

 

 

“Now I know what a pregnant woman must feel like,” Justin huffed, walking into his studio. He hung his scarf and jacket on the rack before he noticed that Heather was there, sitting on the futon beside Colin, and he froze. “Huh… Am I interrupting?”

“What? No!” Heather chuckled, and the disheartenment Colin felt at her tone was plain on his face. “What’s that about being pregnant?”

“Oh, that…” Justin uttered, a bit embarrassed. He wasn’t expecting Heather’s presence. “It’s that, since I found that I’ll be Gus’ donor I can’t stop thinking about it. Right now, I was crossing the street and realizing that if I was ran over by a bus, there goes the chance for him to have the transplant.”

“Aw, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Heather considered.

“No, that’s me being terrified,” Justin confessed, dropping on the futon next to her. “There’s at least a couple of weeks to go before Gus can make the transplant… What if something goes wrong in the meantime? What if something goes wrong _after_ we do it? What if it doesn’t work?”

Justin had been holding this in for the whole week. He was happy to be compatible with Gus, but he wished he could have made the donation right away, see Gus getting better, get it over with. Like this, he had three despaired parents with all their hopes on him, and he couldn’t stand the thought that they might be misplaced. He didn’t want to watch Brian’s heart breaking again.

“If something goes wrong it won’t be your fault. You’re doing everything you can which, all considered, it’s quite a bit,” Colin said, pragmatic.

“I know that. I know, I just…” Justin puffed, throwing his hands up. “I just needed to get it out there.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “I wish Brian was here…” _to fuck me into oblivion,_ he finished in his mind.

“Your boyfriend?” Heather asked, curious. Justin nodded. “How adorable!”

Justin smirked. “Yeah… if you meet him, don’t ever use that word.”

She gave him an odd look, trying to figure if he was being serious.

“Oh, almost forgot! Heather, I have something for you,” Justin said.

“For me?” she uttered.

“Yeah.” Justin went to pick a large cardboard box from his desk and handed it to her. “It’s every number of Rage ever printed. It’s the least we can offer you after you’ve helped us so much.”

“Wow! Thank you!” Heather opened the box, eager to take a look at the content. “Are these autographed? I’ll want autographs from you and your partner. These might be worth a fortune in a couple of decades.”

Justin chuckled. “You really know how to do business. I just hope you’re right.”

She grinned, patting the package. “So do I. Well, boys… I gotta go.” She stood up, carrying the box of books as if it was a precious gem. “See you tomorrow!”

“Sure, see you…” Colin grumbled, slumping down on his seat as soon as she walked out the door.

“What’s the matter?”

“Can’t you see it?” He whined, covering his face. “I’m so deep down into her friend-zone that there’s no hope that I’ll ever get out.”

“Come on, don’t be so dramatic,” Justin tried, patting his shoulder.

“I’m not being dramatic. I’m facing the reality that I’d never, ever will get a girl to be interested in me,” Colin muttered, leaning forward to prop his chin up on his palms. Justin tried to hold back a smile. For someone who was so reasonable most of the time, Colin pulled off self-pity like no one. "I don’t know what I’ve done wrong – I was nice to her, I took her to the movies, bought her dinner…”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Justin said. “I guess that, either she’s interested or…” He shrugged.

“Or she’ll never be…” Colin sighed. “Maybe I should take your advice... Wear nice clothes, buy some contacts…”

“No, don’t do that,” Justin said, surprising himself with his own promptness.

Colin raised his eyes to him. “Why not? You nag me about my clothes all the time!”

Justin made an embarrassed smile. “I know, but… that’s not for you to take seriously. I mean… Don’t change anything about you to please anyone, that’s just… unhealthy," he concluded, his mind bringing him right back to Chris Hobbs. Justin laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. "The most important person you have to please is yourself.”

“That’s easy to say when all the guys want to fuck you,” Colin grumbled.

“If it makes you feel better, I’d totally fuck you,” Justin teased.

His roommate gave him a pleading look. “Really?”

“Huh… yeah. I mean, you’re pretty hot.”

Colin studied his face. “You really think so?”

Justin nodded, amused by the sudden interest.

“How come you never said that to me before?”

“I did! Everytime I nagged you about your clothes, remember?”

“Oh…” Colin stared at him, befuddled, and Justin became awkwardly aware of the proximity between them.

The next moment, Colin patted his knee and beamed at him. “Cool! You’re a good friend,” he concluded, before standing up and walking to the fridge with a self-satisfied smile.

Justin chortled. Here’s why he preferred men – they were so much easier to please.

 

 

Brian arrived at the loft unusually early. He couldn’t have sex, he was in bad terms with the drugs and his favorite dance partner was in New York, so there was no reason for him to go to Babylon at a Thursday night. He took a quick shower and, still naked, he lay down on his side of the bed.

In thirty years of his life, Brian had never had a side of the bed. That was before Justin had come into his life. Now he did. He liked having a side of the bed. He just didn’t like when the other side was empty.

The whole loft felt very empty since everyone had left. Justin hadn’t been there in ages, nor had Lindsay and Gus. Michael used to drop by now and then, but that was before Toronto had called for him as well. Now, even when he was in Pittsburgh, he had more important things to do. Brian himself was here only because he had the interviews to do at Kinnetik, otherwise he’d rather be in Toronto with his son, or in New York City with Justin. He felt that a part of him, of his life, was fading away, and the odd thing was, he wasn’t all that fazed about it. He had more important things to worry about now.

He considered calling Justin but, looking at the time, he decided not to. At this hour he was probably working on his comic book and Brian didn’t want to interrupt. Justin used to call later, anyway.

Instead, he opened one of the nightstand drawers and retrieved a couple of Rage issues to help him pass the time. Brian wasn’t a religious _Rage_ follower. Every once in a while, he liked to take a peek at what Michael and Justin were doing with their comic book, but that was it. With these two volumes, however, it had been different. He’d bought them as soon as they were released, and brought them home to study intently. These were the numbers Michael and Justin had produced during the two months they’d been apart, and the only link to Justin that Brian had allowed himself at the time.

He opened one of the issues and brought it to his face to inhale its scent. To Brian, this particular smell of printed paper, just like the smell of graphite and sketch paper, would always remind him of Justin.

He turned the page and smiled. The first time he’d read these, it had come to his attention how unusually action packed they were, and not with the violent kind of action. The whole second page pictured Rage and J.T. in their sexy circular bed, both naked except for Rage’s mask. J.T. was kissing Rage’s stomach, his eyes closed in bliss. With a big hand on his blond head, Rage looked down at him with obvious adoration. Brian was amazed by how much Justin could convey in an image, the amount of expressiveness he was able to put in the characters demeanors and faces.

The next page, divided in half lengthwise, was another treat. Along its whole length, the box on the left showed the whole of _Rage’s_ length, as well as a close up of J.T.’s wet tongue on it, as his mouth was about to enfold the swollen tip. The upper half of the box on the right showed Rage’s face, clearly immersed in a haze of pleasure. The lower half portrayed J.T.’s face and, although his mouth was busy, his eyes were enough to transmit his desire and longing. Even though the image wasn’t a whole, the intensity of both their gazes was enough for anyone to know they were looking into each other’s eyes.

The best part was that both of them still looked a lot like him and Justin.

“Crap…” Brian uttered, throwing his head back, at realizing he was hard. He looked down at his uncalled for erection, resting on his lower abdomen, then back at the comic book. He turned the page.

Rage was on his knees behind J.T., on their bed. Brian - no, it was Rage – had his hands on Justin’s – no, J.T.’s – hips, his groin pressed against the blond man’s backside, inside him.

Brian’s hand slid down to his shaft on its own accord, as he looked at the way Justin’s… J.T.’s… back arched so he could have a hand around his lover’s neck, who was nibbling at his ear. Justin loved when Brian did that to him.

The comic book crumpled under Brian’s clenched fist as he stroked himself and the images on the paper mingled with those in his mind. He was inside Justin, touching _him_. Brian was wearing a mask and they were both bent over a circular bed. He thrust, and Justin moaned, and he moaned with him, and Justin asked for more, and he gave it to him, and their skins rubbed up against each other, and they loved it more every second passed, until there was no holding it.

“Juss…tin… Fuck…”

And Brian came, all over himself and the comic book.

A second later, his cellphone rang.

Brian let out a laugh and tried to catch his breath before reaching for the phone with his clean hand. He laid back on the bed before picking up. “Hello? Sunshine… I was thinking about you just now.”

 


	12. I love that you’d do anything for me

 

Through the glass wall, Justin watched Gus lying in his hospital bed, as well as Brian, who was sitting beside his son. That wall was the closest Justin had gotten to the boy since he’d arrived at Toronto, this time to stay for a while.

Gus had already been through the preparatory regimen for the transplant. The total body irradiation added to the chemo and his disease had left him even more vulnerable to infections, that’s why only his parents where now allowed into the room, and had to take strict hygienic precautions before doing so.

“He looks pretty bad, huh?”

Justin, alone a moment ago, looked beside him to find Maggie staring through the glass as well. She looked a bit worn out, tired, but she still sounded like her usual impertinent self.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d been released last week.”

For the past few weeks, Justin had accompanied Maggie’s treatment closely, partly because he’d came to care for the girl, but also out of curiosity since Gus was about to undergo the same procedure. She’d also gone through a nasty preparatory phase, and a period of sickness after performing the actual transplant, but she’d gotten better enough to go home. Things seemed to be looking up for her – that meant they could look up for Gus as well. It was a surprise to find her at the hospital again.

“Glad to see you too,” she huffed, indignant. “I _was_ released. I have an appointment with my doctor. I thought I’d sneak in and check on the kids instead of spending another eternity in that waiting room.”

“Your parents give you way too much freedom.”

“Advantages of being in a permanent about-to-die state,” she retorted.

Justin gave her a droll stare. “So…is everything ok with you?”

“Duh! Of course not everything is ok! I have cancer!”

He rolled his eyes. “I meant to ask if you feel better. How’s the treatment going?”

“So far, so good,” she said, dismissive. “How’s Gus?”

“He’s… making his way through it, I guess… They’re gonna collect my bone marrow today. I’m waiting for them to call me any moment now, actually.”

“Oh! Are you nervous?” Maggie asked. “I mean, they’re gonna put a huge needle through your hipbone.”

“Thank you very much for the imagery,” Justin grunted.

“I’m sure you already knew how it works.”

“Yeah, and I was doing a great job of not thinking about it ‘til now,” he pointed out.

“It’s no big deal. My brother said he’d only got a bit sore, nothing much.”

Justin looked at Gus, lying on his side. “Yeah, well… I’m gonna be asleep, anyway. I imagine it’s much worse to keep that…” He gestured towards his own neck, indicating the small tube doctors had placed in Gus’ neck, going inside his vein, a couple of days ago. The next day, Justin’s cells would be going through that tube to, hopefully, settle in Gus’ bone and start making good blood cells.

“It’s a bit of a bother,” Maggie admitted. “But it doesn’t really hurt. It just feels weird when they’re…”

“Mr. Taylor?”

Justin recognized the nurse’s voice and his heart began to race even before he turned to look at her.

“Are you ready?” she asked with a soothing smile.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” Justin said, sounding way too frantic for someone who claimed to be ready. He almost left after the nurse, before realizing he should let Brian know and tapped the glass to call his attention.

After staring at his son for so long, Brian was lost in his own mind. The tapping sound brought him back. Justin was pointing to a nurse beside him, conveying through gesturing that he was going with her. He went out of sight so fast that it barely left any time for Brian to wave, leaving the chatty kid to return his gesture.

Brian stroked Gus’ head. “You’re gonna be just fine, sonny boy.”

Justin was led by the nurse into the room that he would be occupying while recovering from the anesthesia. She handed him a gown and pulled the blinds around the bed so he had privacy to change into it. That’s when his anxiety spiked and he froze, staring at the folded gown on the bed.

Last time he’d worn this kind of thing, and occupied a bed like this one… He didn’t like to think of it, but it was just coming back to him. He’d been hurt, incapacitated… he’d felt powerless.

_Everything will be fine with you. This is just a little something you gotta do to help Gus._

Yet, he was still fully dressed, and the gown inside its package.

“Is everything ok in there?” the nurse asked, noticing the lack of movement.

Justin took a deep breath. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He took off his shirt, folded it and grabbed the gown.

As he changed, he heard Michael’s voice, asking to come into the room. The nurse knew him, so she let him in.

“Hey, there!” Michael greeted from the other side of the blinds. “Brian told me you were getting ready, so we dropped by to say ‘good luck’.”

“Thanks.” Justin put the gown on, before dropping his pants and underwear. Naked except for that thin, baggy layer of fabric, he felt even worse, more vulnerable.

“And, we also wanted to say our goodbyes, ‘cause we’ll be leaving this afternoon,” Michael said. “Eric called me. It looks like the first issue sold out and he needs more of it. I’ve gotta go poke at those guys from the printer to have them ready before the next century.”

“It sucks that we have to rely on the printer. It’s still great news, though,” Justin remarked, more to distract himself than anything. The last think worrying him now was _Rage._

He pushed the blinds away as soon as he was done, and knew what Michael meant by ‘we’. He had J.R. in his arms and had brought Ben along. The nurse was unfolding a wheelchair to take him to the operating room in.

“You don’t look so great yourself,” Ben commented, noticing the way he was paling.

At his words, the nurse got closer to Justin to observe him. “You’re not feeling well?”

Justin shook his head. “I’m fine, just… a little nervous, that’s all.”

“You’re not gonna chicken out now, are you?” Michael snapped, anxious.

“Michael…” Ben gave him an admonishing look.

“I’m not chickening out, Michael,” Justin huffed, exasperated.

“I’m sorry… that came out wrong…” Michael admitted, contrite.

“Everyone gets a little anxious before going into the operating room,” the nurse said, appeasing. “But don’t worry, this is a simple procedure. You’ll be out of the block in an hour, and home by the end of the day.”

Justin smiled at her for the encouragement. “Yeah, I know.”

The nurse went back to the wheelchair. “Let’s go, then?”

“Well…” Justin exhaled heavily. “Here I go. I see you later, guys.”

Michael held his daughter’s little hand to make her wave. “Say ‘see you later, Justin!’” J.T. babbled something that, with a lot of imagination, could’ve been a repeat of his father’s words, making Justin laugh.

“See you later, little thing,” he said, tickling her belly. The girl giggled, and tried to play with Justin’s hand.

“Kids love you,” Ben noted.

“Yeah… I guess they think I’m a baby just like them, only bigger.”

“All the better for when you have your own,” Michael remarked, teasing.

Justin chuckled. “Yeah, I…” he interrupted himself at sensing someone else entering the room. It was Brian.

As he walked inside the room, Brian’s eyes jumped from Justin, to J.T., to Justin again, taking and odd, elusive expression. Justin pulled his hand away from the girl as if she’d burnt him. “…I’m still too young to think of that, though.”

Michael and Ben exchanged knowing looks. Brian pretended not to notice anything, but the smile he brought became the tiniest bit more strained.

Justin didn’t quite care about it at the moment. He just felt like running to Brian, holding him tight and say ‘I’m so fucking scared’ onto his chest. Instead, he just stood there as Brian stepped closer.

“Look at you, all dressed up,” Brian said, his smile becoming tenderer.

“Don’t I look hot?” Justin asked, turning around to wag his exposed butt at him, getting a smile even from the nurse, who waited patiently by the wheelchair.

“Very! You should keep it on until we get home,” Brian suggested, playful.

When Justin turned to face him again, Brian cupped his cheeks to look into his eyes. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Justin said, and it was the absolute truth. He wasn’t sure when exactly his anxiousness had vanished, but it had.

Brian put his arms around him and Justin didn’t refrain from hugging him back. Pressing his cheek against Justin’s, Brian brought his lips to his lover’s ear. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“Mr. Taylor, we should really go now,” the nurse said, pointedly.

“Huh… sure. I’m sorry,” Justin uttered, embarrassed, backing away from Brian’s embrace.

Brian held his hands and pulled him close again. He wasn’t done yet. “I love you,” he stated, unwavering. And loud.

Ben’s eyes widened, Michael’s jaw dropped and the nurse rolled her eyes, even though she couldn’t hold back a smile.

Justin was floored. He would have been be less surprised if Brian had decided to flash his dick to everyone in the room. That was a part of him he’d never minded exposing anyway.

He was still in shock when Brian pecked his lips, stroking his cheek.

The nurse took the chance to come behind Justin with the wheelchair and all but force him to sit there. “I’m sorry, but I really have to take him away for a while. I promise to bring him back in no time.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Brian said, following the nurse as she transported Justin out of the room.

“Ok.” Justin leaned over the arm of the chair to look back at Brian, who stood by the room’s door as the nurse pushed him up the aisle. “Don’t you dare propose when I come back!”

Brian smiled. “I’ll try my best.”

Inside the room, Michael was still trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. “Oh my God… Ben…” he uttered under his breath. “This whole thing with Gus’… it really was the last straw. Brian’s going cuckoo bananas!”

Ben chuckled. “I don’t think Brian has a mental condition, Michael. Actually, if anything, his mind is going healthier.”

 

Justin lay down on the operating table on his own. A mask was put on his face and he was told to count backwards from ten while he breathed the smelly gas. By nine he was getting dizzy, by six the world began to vanish, and at three he dove into nothingness.

The first sensation he got back was that of spinning. He felt lightheaded, weightless, as he spun out of control. No, not out of control, he realized. Someone was holding him around the waist as he spun, keeping him steady. He was secure, but free at the same time. It felt really good. And the music… there was music playing in the background, and he was spinning, and spinning, and…

Light. White and intense, invading his mind through the eyes that he began to open. At first, the light was all he could see, but then things became more defined. He was lying down. That bed… those walls… that smell… A hospital.

“No!” Justin tried to cry out, but his throat was dry and raspy, and only a grunt came out. _Am I still here? Was it all a dream? Am I still…_ In his panic, he tried to sit up too quick and gasped, feeling dizzy.

Soon a pair of arms was coming around him, steading him. Just like the arms in his… could he call it a dream? “Justin, you’re fine. Everything’s ok. I’m right here,” was murmured next to his ear.

“Brian…” Justin uttered, recognizing the voice, and the hug, as everything else came back to him. He’d been put asleep for the doctors to harvest his bone marrow to give Gus. That’s why he’d just waken up in the hospital’s bed. Everything was fine with him. He’d leave by the end of the day.

Relieved, Justin rested his head on Brian’s shoulder, his heartbeat returning to its normal pace as he returned the hug. “It was you,” he murmured, his voice still hoarse.

“What was?” Brian asked, eyeing Justin with apprehension. That had been some violent awakening. He was somewhat appeased by the smile growing on Justin’s face.

“I was having a sort of dream… There was music, and someone was spinning me around… I couldn’t tell who it was then, but now I’m sure it was you. Kinda weird, huh?”

Brian smiled. “Not so much.” He stroked Justin’s cheek. “How do you feel?”

“A bit woozy… but fine.”

“You should lay down, then. Take your time here to rest,” Brian said, helping him lean back on the pillow.

Justin turned on his side and groped his own hip, finding a small bandage there. “So, everything went well? Did they take everything they needed?”

“Yeah, everything according to plan. They’re now processing the cells so they can give them to Gus tomorrow.”

Justin smiled, relaxing onto the pillow. “I’m glad.”

“I’ll let everyone know that you’re awake,” Brian said, getting his cellphone from his pocket. “Your mother called me five times already. Five fucking times in three hours! And then Daphne, and your naked friend…”

“His name is Colin,” Justin said, for the nth time, chuckling.

He was still dozed from the anesthetic and, even though he’d rather stay awake, Justin felt like sleeping, so he closed his eyes, listening to the clicking on the cellphone’s keypad as Brian texted to his mother and whoever else wanted news about him. When the clicking stopped, Justin felt a hand slide around his, and smiled.

He was almost diving into the land of dreams again when a cheery voice came from the door and brought him right back. “Hello, sleepy-head!”

Justin raised his head a bit, in time to see a huge bouquet of lovely dark pink roses entering the room, immediately followed by Melanie, who was carrying it, and Lindsay right after her.

“We brought something to decorate your bedside!” she announced, while Melanie placed the flowers in the glass vase on the nightstand. Only then did Justin notice the ‘Thank You’ card amidst the roses.

“Just looking at them will bring you right back on your feet,” Melanie stated.

Amused by all their cheerfulness, Justin sat up, taking it slower this time. “Thanks, girls. They’re beautiful,” he said admiring the roses. “But you really didn’t have to do this. It’s not like I’m sick or anything.”

“Well, that doesn’t make us any less grateful,” Lindsay pointed out.

“Not even a little,” Melanie corroborated.

“It’s true,” Brian confirmed. To Justin’s surprise, he reached down and, from somewhere close to his feet, he retrieved a single red rose. He added it to the girls’ bouquet, where it lit the flowers around it, shining its uniqueness amongst them.

 

 

That evening, as the elevator took them up to Brian’s apartment, Justin was having a hard time dealing with the girls’ gratitude in such a confined space.

“Achoo!” He blew his nose noisily with a paper tissue, before rubbing his eyes. “Oh, fu… ah!...choo!”

Holding the roses in the farthest corner of the elevator, Brian tried not to laugh. “I told them not to exaggerate with the flowers, but did they listen?” He rolled his eyes. “Lesbians…”

“Just so you know, I really liked them,” Justin said as Brian pulled him out of the elevator, his voice nasal from holding the tissue against his nose. “It was very… huh… Achoo!... thoughtful. And they’re beauti…ful… choo!”

Brian chuckled, unlocking the apartment’s door. “You better appreciate their beauty from afar, though.”

“Definitely,” Justin agreed, as they stepped inside.

The apartment still felt a little empty. Brian had added a TV and a coffee table to the previously sparse furniture, but that was it. He didn’t have much time to think of redecorating these days.

“I’m gonna put these in the kitchen,” Brian said, taking the flowers away.

“I need to wash my face…” Justin grumbled, heading for the bathroom as he rubbed his still itchy nose with the tissue.

He felt much better after applying some cold water on his congested eyes and nose.

“I guess you’ll need this.”

Justin raised his eyes from the towel he was drying himself with. Brian had brought him a glass of water and a pill. His allergy medicine.

“Thanks.”

“Now, take that and come to bed.”

“I’m tired of being in bed, I’ve been in bed all day,” Justin protested. It was only partly true. Even though he’d spent half the day lying down, he still felt tired, something he’d been told was a normal side effect of the procedure.

“The doctor said you shouldn’t strain yourself for a few days,” Brian pointed out.

“I’m not straining, I’m just… up.”

Brian raised his brows and pointed to the bedroom. “Bed. Now.”

Justin did what he was told, huffing in exasperation.Since he’d been released from the hospital, Brian kept treating him as if he was sick. “I’m not disabled, Brian,” he protested, dropping on the bed. “Ow!” He wasn’t sick, but his butt did feel as if he’d fallen hard on a concrete floor.

Brian hid a smile and sat beside him. “Maybe not… But you know how I like to play doctor,” he said, nuzzling Justin behind his ear.

“Hm… That’s highly unprofessional of you, Dr. Kinney,” Justin chuckled, as Brian kissed him under his jaw. He went to kiss Brian’s lips, but before he could, he had to turn his face away to sneeze again. “Ah, fuck this!” He cried out. “Who’d say that after a general anesthesia and everything, it would be a bunch of roses to bring me down?”

Brian caressed his head. “I guess you should consider yourself lucky that I only brought you one.”

“How prescient of you.” Justin placed his hands around Brian’s neck, an amused glint in his eyes. “Do you know what it means, though? To offer a single rose?”

“Of course I know!” Brian said, as if indignant that Justin would think otherwise. “It means… ‘If your hip wasn’t sore, I would ram my cock up your ass all night long.’”

Justin laughed. “Yeah… it’s something along those lines.”

Smirking, Brian brought his lips to Justin’s, licking them apart, feeling them molding with his. Pulling back, he enjoyed the way Justin sucked on his own lips, as if to take in every last bit of the kiss. However, when he came back for more, Brian kept him in place. “Sorry, Sunshine, but the doctor says it’s time to get you ready for bed!” He took the hem of Justin’s sweater and pulled it over his head.

Justin chuckled. “Come on, Brian! I can do that by myself.” His voice came out muffled from behind the folds of the sweater as he twisted out of it.

“We want you to make a fast recovery,” Brian said, his hands sliding slowly down Justin’s naked shoulders. “So tonight you’ll have to stay very quiet.”

“We’ll see about that.” Justin tried to kiss him again, and again Brian held him away.

“Ah! These are doctor’s orders,” Brian said, pushing Justin down on the bed and leaning over him. “You won’t move… a… muscle…” he enunciated, touching Justin’s nose with his, before pulling back.

“Yeah, sure…” Justin grunted, folding his arms over his chest, as he let Brian pull his legs onto his lap so he could remove his shoes and socks, somewhat resigned. He didn’t feel much like moving, anyway. “I’ll just lay here as log, then. Get ready for the most boring night of your life...”

Brian took in Justin’s disgruntled scowl and smiled, starting to undo the other man’s belt. “Well, Sunshine… Just because you have to lay there as a log…” Careful not to displace the bandage, Brian pulled Justin’s pants down, along with his underwear. “…it doesn’t mean that I have.”

“Oh… You’re gonna hit the bars?” Justin asked, trying to sound casual and not disappointed.

“Huh?” Brian uttered, honestly confused.

Justin shrugged. “Well, since the celibacy period is over and I can’t do anything, anyway, you might as well.”

Brian raised his brows. He hadn’t thought of that. Maybe because it had never felt quite like a celibacy period. He’d actually reached a whole new level when it came to enjoying the wonders of delayed pleasure. He and Justin had certainly made the best of it whenever they were together. Raking Justin’s naked body with his eyes, Brian wanted to make the best of it again. And again.

“Now, if I did that…” He leaned over Justin so their faces where an inch apart, his hand caressing the soft skin of the younger man’s thigh. “…who would make sure you keep this scrumptious ass of yours in bed?”

In a couple of heartbeats, Justin smiled all the joy of realizing that Brian would stay with him after all. “I would. I’m a big boy, you know?”

Brian looked down at Justin’s groin, than up again, biting his lower lip. “Hmm… Yes, you are!”

Justin brought his arms around Brian’s neck. He wanted to pull him down, kiss him, but Brian had other plans.

Removing Justin’s arms from around him, Brian pinned him down. “No!” He nosed Justin’s ear, inhaling him. “Quiet…” he murmured, a sensuous order in his voice, impossible to disobey.

Brian’s eyes never left Justin’s as he unbuttoned his own shirt, then his pants. Lying on the bed, Justin felt more than he saw each and every piece of clothing leaving Brian’s body. There was just something in the way Brian was looking down at him that was much more erotic than his naked body, and that was saying a lot. When Brian lay beside him, hot skin against hot skin, wanting gaze locked in wanting gaze, Justin could feel the other man’s shaft pressing on his thigh, as hard as his own. He turned on his side to touch Brian, and once again Brian pushed him down on his back.

“Hey… what did I tell you to do?”

“Be quiet…?” Justin uttered, hinting on despair. Was Brian really doing this? Was he going to keep him… both of them… frustrated all night?

“Exactly.” Brian held Justin’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Tonight, Sunshine, you’ll just be really quiet… and let me take care of you.”

Justin didn’t move. As Brian’s palm cupped his cheek, he waited for Brian’s lips to meet his, compliant. And when they did, their touch was so soft, so gentle, the tongue barely peeking between them to touch Justin’s, as if Brian was afraid to break him.

Brian led Justin into a long, slow kiss, so that he could feel every small bit of it. Just as slowly, his hand traveled over Justin’s skin, from his thigh, over his stomach, up his chest, and back down, only to start again, and again. Brian brought his lips to Justin’s chin, then his neck, in light butterfly kisses that became warm smooches and wet licks, turning Justin’s breath into ragged panting.

Brian lapped at his nipples with the patience of someone willing to do it all night, and by now Justin was sure he could. He wanted nothing more than throw his legs around Brian and beg him to fuck him deep and hard until he passed out, which would undoubtedly happen given his current lack of physical strength, but he knew that Brian would refuse anyway. So, he tried to remain still, playing Brian’s game while all of his self-control crumbled to pieces under the older man’s hands.

Kissing Justin’s stomach, Brian’s primal instincts urged him to go straight down on him, but he hadn’t become God’s gift to gay Pittsburgh by giving in to his primal instincts. So, even as he felt Justin’s turgid tip touching his cheek, smearing pre-come on him, he just drew a wet circle around Justin’s navel with his tongue, and proceeded to mouth him down his thigh.

Justin let out a gurgling sound, a mix of moaning with laughter, as Brian parted his legs to lick the patch of skin right where his thigh met his hip. “Fuck… Brian… why are you torturing me?”

“Torturing?” Brian climbed up Justin’s body, touching him everywhere except where he most wanted him to, until he was in his face again. “Why should I be torturing you? When you…” He paused to kiss Justin’s lips, “…gave my son…” then his cheek, “…a new chance…” and his ear. “…on life?”

 “Now, that’s pushing it.” Brian licked his earlobe before resting his weight on him with caution. That’s when Justin decided the game was over. “All I did was lie there…” Justin’s thigh, trapped between Brian’s legs, began to move slowly but steadily from side to side. “…and let some guy prod my ass.” He made an impish smile when Brian moaned at the sensuous massage. “It’s not like I’m not used to it.”

Brian didn’t have the will to make him stop, giving himself to the sensation of Justin’s skin rubbing on him. “You…” he breathed, his hands holding on Justin’s hair. “…are a very naughty patient.”

Justin grinned. “Just ‘cause you’re a very naughty doctor.” With a hand on the small of Brian’s back, he pulled him down on his body.

“Careful!”

“You’re not hurting me, Brian,” Justin assured, his thigh never stopping its relentless motion.

“Now that must be a first,” Brian scoffed, and his eyes widened when Justin’s palm came down on his butt cheek hard, with a loud slapping sound.

“Ow! That _hurt_!” he uttered, shocked.

“Good.” Justin grabbed Brian’s face, pressing their foreheads together while putting his thigh back to work. “Now, if you utter any more unerotic…” He circled his thigh wider, and Brian gasped. “…self-deprecating…” He circled his thigh faster. “…bullshit…” Brian moaned. “…after making me out of my mind horny…” Justin murmured the last word’s onto Brian’s lips. “…I’ll spank you good!” And Brian lost his last bit of control over the game he’d intended to lead, muffling his sounds onto the pillow, beside Justin’s head.

Justin made a satisfied hum at feeling Brian’s release pulsating against his thigh, splattering him with its warmth. He stroked Brian’s head, as if apologizing, as if saying that he hadn’t meant anything for real. “I love your come on me,” he breathed onto Brian’s ear.

Face still buried on the pillow, Brian let out a hearty laugh. He propped himself up on his hands, hovering over Justin’s body. “I guess you really aren’t disabled, after all.” He looked down, at where his come had splattered over Justin’s thigh, hip and lower abdomen, and smirked. “So, you like it messy, Sunshine?”

“Huh-Hu…” Justin uttered as Brian nuzzled his neck.

“You like it… dirty?” Brian slid down Justin’s body, teasing him with wet kisses the whole way.

Justin’s eyes followed him, his hands tangled on Brian’s hair. “Yeah…”

Looking intently into Justin’s eyes, that could no longer leave his, Brian licked his own come off of him, using his tongue to smear it up Justin’s shaft, making him moan at finally feeling Brian’s wet, slippery – and dirty – tongue on him. And after circling the tip with it – Brian pulled back.

Whining, Justin tried to thrust on his face, but Brian held his hips down, causing his frustration to reach higher peeks.

“No straining yourself, remember?” Brian smiled, enjoying to keep him on edge.

Justin ran his hands over his blond hair in near despair. “That’s… not fair…” He had no idea what he was saying, he just wanted Brian’s mouth back on his cock.

Brian chuckled. “You’re right. I said I would take care of you…” He held Justin’s shaft in his hand, running his thumb over the tip. “…and I will.”

The hardest part for Justin was keeping his body still while Brian worked on him, pampering his balls, licking and sucking them in all the right ways, all the while keeping a tight grip on his shaft, but never stroking it. Justin thrashed the sheets, grasped Brian’s hair, and ended up holding the headboard above his head just so he had some way to release his urge of circling and thrusting his hips. Every moment he felt like he would come in the next moment, but he didn’t. Brian was in total control, Justin’s every sensation depending on him, which was terrible - and awesome.

At last, Brian took him inside his mouth, deeper and deeper, until Justin felt his throat clenching around him and cried out, coming exactly when Brian wanted him to.

“Wow…” Brian breathed, licking the last drop from Justin’s slit with a mischievous smile. “I bet nobody heard you five blocks from here.”

Justin didn’t say anything, just lay there, staring at the ceiling. He was still too high on his orgasm to speak. And exhausted too. Closing his eyes, he could feel his head spin, which brought him back to that strange dream he’d had that morning.

Brian came to lay beside him with a questioning, and somewhat worried, look. “Justin?”

Justin’s face turned very slowly to look at him. He reached up with his hand and spread it on Brian’s cheek, before stretching a smile. “Thanks, doctor. I feel much better now.”

Brian laughed. Retrieving some wipes from the nightstand, he cleaned all the fluids from Justin’s skin as best as he could before pulling the bed covers over both of them.

Justin turned very carefully on his side to face him. He took Brian’s hand, pulling his arm to place it around his own waist. Brian arched his brows questioningly.

“It was just like this,” he sighed, snuggling onto Brian’s chest and closing his eyes.

“What was?”

“That weird dream I had with you…” Justin yawned. “I wish I could remember more of it… to know what it was all about.”

Brian turned off the lights and leaned his cheek on top of Justin’s head. _I wish you did too._

 

By six o’clock the next morning, Brian was already fully dressed and had smoked half a pack of cigarettes. In a couple of hours, Gus’ would go through the actual transplant. The procedure in itself was simple - they would administer Justin’s cells in his vein through the catheter on his neck, just like a blood transfusion. However, the number and severity of possible side effects was scary. And then there was the wait, the long wait. Two to four weeks before they knew if the cells would settle in place and work, or if the transplant would fail. Worse even, there was the possibility that the cells would turn against Gus and attack his organism.

“There’s no way any part of me will attack Gus,” Justin had said, playful, when Brian had mentioned it to him. But Brian knew that, no matter how good everybody’s intentions were, things could always go wrong, and many times they did.

When Justin woke up, a couple of hours later, it was to the smell of toast and fried bacon. His stomach rumbled before he noticed the oddness of it. It wasn’t a smell he used to wake up to when he stayed in Toronto.

Pulling a pair of sweatpants on, Justin followed the scent to the kitchen. He leaned on the doorframe, smiling at what he found inside.

“I never thought I’d live to see this day,” Justin remarked, and Brian raised his eyes from the scrambled eggs he was frying to look at him.

“What? Just because I don’t like to cook, it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to.”

Justin grinned and saved himself the trouble of explaining that he wasn’t referring to the cooking in itself, more to the bed tray on the table with a glass of orange juice and a couple of toasts already on top of it. “We always have breakfast in that coffee shop down the street,” he noted, instead.

“I thought I’d save you the trip downstairs.”

“Hm… I appreciate it, but… I have to go to the hospital with you,” Justin pointed out, coming closer to hold onto Brian’s arm.

“What you _have_ to do is get some rest,” Brian grumbled, dishing up the eggs and adding a couple of bacon rashers. “And eat this,” he added, passing the plate to Justin.

Justin laid the plate on the table, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I’m gonna jog there! Besides, I told the girls that I’d be there in case they needed me to watch over J.R. during the transplant.”

Brian eyes him in disbelief. “What the fuck! You’re not their babysitter, you’re still recovering!”

“Listen, I was the one who offered, ok?”

“Then _fuck_ your parental calling!” Brian burst out, throwing the wooden spoon into the pan. “You don’t have to take care of every kid in the fucking world! You have yourself to take care of!”

“Fuck _you_ , Brian!” Justin retorted, trying his best to hide his hurt at the words. “I know this whole thing is scary as shit, but exploding on me won’t make it any better.”

Brian paced to the small window at the opposite end of the kitchen, his nostrils flaring like those of a raging bull.

Justin followed. “And… you know it’s not just about J.R.” He approached Brian, touching his back tentatively. “I want to be there with you.”

Brian clenched his eyes shut and grasped a handful of his own hair. Why did he keep doing this? Why did he make an effort to keep in control at all times, only to let everything overflow in a single disastrous moment of weakness?

He turned around and faced Justin. Under the morning light, his eyes were bright blue, and wary.

Justin relaxed a bit, tugging at Brian’s shirt when he took his face in his hands, kissing him on the lips. “Good morning, Sunshine. How did you sleep?”

Justin smiled. Wouldn’t everything be better if we were always allowed a new start?

“Fine. You?”

“Not so good,” Brian confessed, a smile hidden somewhere in his grimace.

“I figured.” Holding Brian’s hand, Justin walked backwards pulling him towards the table. “Breakfast smells great.”

“I made it for you.”

Justin shifted his hand, so his fingers were intertwined with Brian’s, and squeezed. From the farthest corner of the kitchen, beside the window, the red rose beckoned him from among its companions. “Thank you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... after a chapter like this I can't resist a litte publicizing for the good cause :P  
> Have you, dear reader, ever considered being a bone marrow donor? Have you thought that you could save a life by registering into your country's donors network (which would be One Match for Canada, Be The Match for the USA and... I'm sure you can find it on the internet if you're from somewhere else)?
> 
> If you are uneasy about it, because of the procedure I've just made Justin go through, fear not! Nowadays, there's actually an alternate, less invasive way to harvest hematopoietic stem cells. It basically implies filtering the cells out of your bloodstream, which means it works much like donating blood. So you see how easy it can be to save a life! :D
> 
> Warning: Hot sexiness with Brian Kinney afterwards not included :P
> 
> That said... leaving your thoughts about the chapter would be really nice too xD.


	13. Drugs can't fix everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since I last updated this... Sorry! I've been too busy lately, and I will go on being busy for the next couple or months or so, so the updates might be slower dring that period.
> 
> Just letting you know that, if I take forever to update again, it doesn't mean that I abandoned the story! That WON'T happen! It might just take a little longer, that's all :)
> 
> So... hope you enjoy the chapter :)

 

In the days following the transplant, Justin realized why the voluntary unrelated donors’ identities were kept from the families and vice versa. In spite of the antibiotics, Gus was feverish, his parents’ lives suspended on account of a number on a thermometer. Brian spent long hours just staring at his son, being it from his bedside or through the glassed wall.

Meanwhile, Justin didn’t know what to do with himself. He thought he'd helped, but now it all seemed useless.

He ended up spending most of his last couple of days in Toronto in the hospital’s cafeteria, working on _Rage_. Their sales had tripled, counting with those from the online store and the pre-orders Michael and Eric had received for the next issue. Plus, a comic book store from San Francisco had called, showing interest in selling hard copies in there. Michael had written the story for the three next issues and had been softly pressing him to come up with the graphics as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast. He still felt some effects of the surgery, and the overall mood wasn't exactly inspiring.

“They already knew this thing wouldn’t be all butterflies and rainbows,” Daphne pointed out over the phone. “You said so yourself. And you knew it too.”

Justin huffed, burying his face on his palm. “I know it’s irrational. I know the results of the whole process are up to the doctors, and nature, and all I did was supply the material that I happened to have, but… I still feel like I’ve failed. If you were here, seeing how Brian and the girls were hopeful in the day of the transplant, treating me as if I was some kind of minor god, and how they are deflated now, you’ll understand. I’m almost happy that I have to go back to New York tomorrow. I feel like deadweight in here, like I’m a constant reminder of all lost hope,” he grumbled, but he knew it wasn’t entirely true. He would be working extra shifts in the next weekend to compensate for all the days off he was having lately, which meant he’d be away for two weeks. He didn’t like to think that something might go wrong while he was away.

“Say… Brian is not guilt tripping you, is he?” Daphne asked, worried. “’Cause if he is, I…”

“No, not at all. This is just… stuff that goes on inside my head, that’s all. Brian’s been ok, he…” Justin hesitated. “Well, he kinda lost his temper the other day, but it had nothing to do with this.”

“Then why?”

Justin looked around. No one in the hospital's cafeteria was interested in him or his conversation. He had no idea if there was anything right in what he was about to say, but it was something that had been nagging at him for a while. “You know I watch over J.R. sometimes, when the girls need to pay closer attention to Gus…”

“Yeah…?”

“Well… I don’t think Brian likes it much…”

“What’s the matter with it?”

“I’m not sure. He never actually said anything, you know? It’s just the way he looked at me… Then, the morning after my surgery, I said I intended to be at the hospital in case the girls needed a babysitter for a while and he sort of… exploded on me.”

“What? Please tell me you slapped his face!”

“I did! Verbally...”

Daphne grunted, not convinced of the effectiveness of verbal slaps.

“It was just and outburst, he was really nervous about Gus’ transplant. But I… I think he feels like I’m going back to wanting to have a real family, and all that shit. I don’t understand, ‘cause I already told him that all I want is to be with him.”

“Is it?”

“Come on, Daph, you know it is!”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you want to be with Brian, but… Are you telling me that you no longer want to be a father? Like, never?”

Justin shifted his position, uncomfortable. “I’m twenty-two. Why should I even think about that now?”

“That’s exactly why! You’re too young to narrow your options for the future!”

“I’m not… That’s not… Listen, I shouldn’t have brought this up. It’s not important. The only thing that I want now is for Gus to get better. Besides, Brian’s actually been pretty sweet with me.”

Daphne chuckled. “Brian? _Sweet_?”

“Yeah, you know… in his particular way.” Justin smiled. “The morning after my surgery I caught him in the kitchen preparing a tray to bring me breakfast in bed.”

Daphne’s gasp was audible from the other side of the line. “No way!”

“Yeah… He probably thought it was ok to mellow, since I was kind of in recovery…”

“Well, it’s not so surprising,” Daphne reconsidered. “I always thought Brian had this nurturing streak to him.”

Justin was still laughing about Brian’s nurturing streak when the man in question touched his shoulder.

“Listen, Brian’s here. I gotta go,” he said to Daphne before hanging up, all laughter dying down.

“Secret phone call?” Brian teased, taking off his jacket to hang it the back of the chair he sat on.

Justin observed him, trying to read some news on his body language. He looked as tired as he ever did lately. “It was Daphne.” He pocketed the phone. “How is he?” Justin asked, waiting to hear the customary ‘not better, not worse’.

“Still nauseous,” Brian said. “But the fever came down.”

“Really?” Justin couldn’t believe there were some good news.

“Yeah.” At last, Brian showed a small smile. “He’s getting better.”

“So… it means the transplant took?”

 “They say it takes a few weeks for the new bone marrow to start producing new blood cells. Only then we can know for sure.” Brian leaned closer to run his hands down Justin’s hair. “But this is a good sign.”

Justin exhaled, closing his eyes and letting his forehead rest onto Brian’s. _Thank you…_ His eyes were still closed when he received Brian’s kiss on the lips.

Brian had noticed that Justin was much tenser after the transplant. He’d known it might happen. He was happy to see some of that tension go away at his words.

“So, what are you doing?” Brian leaned over the table to peek at the sketchpad before Justin and felt something snap on his neck. “Fuck…” he uttered, rubbing his nape. “Those fucking hospital chairs…”

Justin chuckled and stood behind Brian to massage his neck. “Don’t worry, grandpa. I’ll fix you.”

“You’ve been trying to do that for years, what makes you think you can do it now?” Brian mumbled, bending his neck onto Justin’s skillful hands. “Oh, yeah, right there!” he moaned, attracting curious looks from other tables.

Justin smiled. “I guess I’m a very hopeful person.”

Brian closed his eyes. Yes, Justin was a hopeful person; too hopeful, perhaps. In that regard, he was the opposite of Brian. Could that be the reason why they were drawn to each other?

Brian recalled Justin saying that he wanted him just like he was. Brian had believed it. Or rather, he’d believed that Justin believed it. Maybe it was the truth. After all, even working in New York, Justin still came to join him whenever he could. What Brian couldn’t believe was that _this_ was the way Justin wanted it to be, no matter how many times he said that he was ok with it.

He held one of the hands that worked on his shoulder and tilted his head back to look at Justin, who gave him an upside down questioning look. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah…”

Justin kissed Brian’s nose and went back to his seat. In the meantime, Brian stole his sketchpad. “Is this a gigantic space… Corvette?” he asked, amused, studying one of the sketches.

“It’s Rage’s starship.”

“So, where’s the mighty hero going this time?”

“On vacation, with J.T. Or so they think… for the most terrifying dangers await them on their way,” Justin said, in a deep narrating voice.

“How unexpected…” Brian sneered. He turned the page, finding several face and full body sketches of a man. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, Michael wants Rage to grow a crush on this guy from his crew on the way. You know, to add more drama,” Justin explained. “That’s him.”

“Rage’s crush, huh?” Brian studied the drawing with curiosity. “He’s hot. Must be a very special guy, too.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, for Rage to have a crush on him, when everybody knows J.T.’s the love of Rage’s life..." Brian considered.

Justin smiled. “Right.”

 

 

Lately, the few days Brian had to be at Kinnetik were the longest of his life. Often they were two at a time, but he preferred to go thought them as if they were a single one. Time went by too slowly whenever he tried to fall asleep.

Brian's job used to be the challenging part of his life, one of the few things that made him feel alive without killing him slowly in the process. Now, he’d left the challenges for someone else, and was reduced to do paperwork and the occasional meeting with his staff.

“I need you to sign here, here and here,” Ted said, pointing the corresponding lines on the stack of paper he’d just dropped onto Brian’s desk.

Brian did as he was told, barely looking at the documents before him.

“You were supposed to check it first,” Ted pointed out.

“I trust you.” Brian finished the last signature. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s all for today,” Ted said, picking up the documents. “So, if you don’t need me anymore, I’ll get going.”

“Sure. Hey!” Brian called, right before Ted reached the door. “Wanna go to Babylon later?”

There had been weeks since he'd last been to his club. The truth was, he'd been making an active effort not to go. He knew very well what it could lead to - that place was full of unsafe drugs an even less safe men.

It was easier to stay away from the night life when he was in Toronto. He had to be by Gus' side during week days, and he had Justin on weekends. But whenever he was back in Pittsburgh, all alone, it was harder to resist to the ingrained habit. Maybe if he brought a friend along... It would be safer.

“Hum… sorry, but Blake and I are going to the opera tonight, it’s _Rigoletto._ I can check if they got any tickets left if you wanna come,” Ted offered.

“No, thanks. There’s enough drama in my life already,” Brian grumbled, getting back to work on his computer.

“How about Michael? Maybe he wants to go out,” Ted suggested.

“Nah, he doesn’t. He’s probably keeping his husband company, or scolding his teenage son, or packing comic books to send to China.”

“Yeah… the joys of having a family and being your own boss…” Ted sneered. “Wait, they’re selling to China now?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “It was a hyperbole, Theodore.”

“Oh… right…” Ted uttered, awkwardly. “Although, considering how good they’re doing, I wouldn’t be too surprised. Say, have you been helping Justin in marketing those?”

Brian shook his head. “He doesn’t need me. He’s doing just fine on his own.”

The truth behind his words struck him harder than he expected. Brian needed Justin. He needed him more than he’d ever admit, especially now, with everything that was happening with Gus. Justin, on the other hand… Justin didn’t really need him. He had a life of his own in New York, a life that was going well for him, complete with a job, friends and the chance to do what he loved. The thought caused Brian an undefined sense of discomfort.

“Brian?” Ted stared at him with wide eyes, holding the documents against his chest. “Everything ok?”

“Everything’s fabulous,” Brian grunted. “Weren’t you leaving?”

“Yeah… yeah… I…” Ted turned around but ended up doing a three hundred degrees turn. “Oh, another thing… The new guy, Price? He wanted to see you too. Should I tell him to come in now?”

“Yeah, send him in,” Brian said, rubbing his forehead with a tired sigh.

Five minutes after Ted went out, Oliver Price walked in.

“Excuse me… I came for those documents I left in here earlier?”

Brian had trusted his gut when he’d hired Price and, so far, his gut had been proven right. Oliver was a competent and dedicated executive. Brian was sure that he was also gay – he’d caught him checking him out a couple of times. However, differently from a couple of other guys he’d interviewed, he’d never mentioned it to Brian, or tried to use it to gain any kind of advantage. And despite his interested glances, he hadn’t come on to him in any way either. Brian liked that. Price was his kind of man.

Brian gestured to one of the numerous files on his desk. “Over there. It’s all signed.”

“Thanks,” Oliver said, grabbing the file and preparing to leave.

“Oh, Price,” Brian called, stopping him.

“Oliver,” the other man corrected automatically.

Brian raised one eyebrow inquisitively.

“I’m sorry, it’s the habit,” Oliver justified, with an awkward smile, unsure if he’d just been too inappropriate. “I’m not very fond of ‘Price’. Makes me think of my father…”

“I see…” Brian emitted, eyeing him with mild intrigue. He could tell that it wasn’t a ‘makes me think of my father’ as in ‘it makes me seem old’. It was a ‘makes me think of think of my father and I don’t like thinking of that bastard’. Brian could tell. “I was gonna say, nice job with JC Juices. Those guys are never happy with anything _I_ show them. It’s nice to get back to Toronto with that off my back.”

Oliver nodded, acknowledging the compliment, but shrugged it off. “I just did what I was supposed to.”

“True too,” Brian agreed, turning his attention back to the computer.

“Well… then…” Oliver fidgeted with the file in his hands, hesitant. “…have a nice trip tomorrow, Mr. Kinney," he concluded.

When he walked out the door, Oliver was holding back an amused smile at his boss’s impassibility. This Kinney… he was quite an interesting guy.

 

 

Babylon. The place where time stopped, where nothing ever changed.

Brian used to find that comforting. No matter what kind of shit life decided to throw his way, he would always have Babylon, with its same blinding lights, deafening music, numbing substances and distracting bodies.

Now, he’d rather be in an airplane flying back to Toronto. He would, if he could.

 Well, Babylon was still the second best thing, and Brian hadn't been able to resist its appeal this time. He'd tried calling Emmett, but he was unavailable, catering to some event, so he ended up going alone. He was good. A few drinks would get him through the night just fine.

Brian walked through the crowd of dancing men, approaching on instinct the area by the bar where he always hung out with the boys. Of course they weren’t there today. In their place, a couple of guys made out vigorously. The bartender was in front of him in a second.

“Hey, Brian. Can I bring you the usual?”

“Bring me two.”

“Excuse me, but I’d already ordered,” someone protested, from somewhere beyond the passionate couple. Someone with a very familiar voice.

“I’ll have your drink right away,” the bartender assured, as Brian leaned over the counter to see the protester’s face. He found Oliver, staring back at him with a frown, before he recognized his boss and his blue eyes widened.

Brian smirked. That would make for a good distraction. He downed the drink just served to him and went around the couple to greet his employee.

“Hey… Mr. Kinney… I didn’t expect to find you here,” Oliver confessed, seeming to recover from the surprise fast enough. He had his dark hair styled in a wilder way than what he used to at the office and wore a tight sleeveless shirt that let his toned arms and torso show. Once again, Brian regretted the fact that this man worked for him – and that wouldn’t change any time soon considering how good he was at it.

“Likewise, Price… Oliver,” Brian corrected, leaning on the counter next to him.

Oliver smiled at Brian’s consideration for his earlier words at the office. He leaned closer to Brian so he was listened to over the loud music. “I heard you owned a club, and I thought of checking it out. It’s not… against the company policy to be here, or anything, is it?”

“Why should it be?”

Oliver shrugged and took a swig from his drink. “I don’t know… Some men like to keep a certain… image.”

“Oh, I do like to keep a certain image,” Brian declared, downing his second drink and asking for a third. He gestured with his chin towards the men on the dance floor. “So… what do you think of my club?”

Oliver’s eyes raked the swarm of moving bodies before them, some half-naked, all trying to show what they got – and very few of them had too little to show. He licked his lower lip. “It’s… nice.”

“’Nice’…” Brian repeated, in disbelief. “You know… I can introduce you to anyone you like.”

Oliver gave him a skeptic look. “You know all of these guys?”

Brian nodded. “Some more intimately than others.” He looked around. “See the blond guy over there? It’s Todd. One of my best customers. He… forget it. Gone to the backroom.” Under Oliver’s amused gaze, Brian made another quick scan of the area. “Oh, see that one? With the black shirt?”

“He’s hot,” Oliver admitted.

“That’s Brandon. Every gay guy in Pittsburgh wants him. They say he’s the best fuck ever.”

Oliver gave him a sideways glance. “That’s not exactly what I’ve heard…”

Brian raised his eyebrow at him. “And what _exactly_ have you heard?”

Oliver smirked. “Nothing that I can repeat to my boss.”

“That’s most likely wise,” Brian considered, sipping his drink. He gestured towards Brandon. “So…?”

Oliver smiled but shook his head. “Thank you, but… I’m not looking for the best fuck ever. I’m just here to dance.”

At those words, Brian let out a hearty chuckle.

“No, it’s true,” Oliver said, amused rather than offended by the other man’s skepticism. “I’m way too paranoid to hook up with random guys at clubs. I mean, you never know… you can’t know who they are, or what they’re gonna do to you…”

“That’s supposed to be the fun part,” Brian argued.

Oliver chuckled. “Yeah… I used to think like that when I was twenty. I’ve done things that I… today I can’t believe I’ve done them! Nowadays… it’s not even about me anymore. I just keep thinking of my mother…’”

Brian scoffed. “Who the hell thinks of his mother when trying to get some?”

“I do. She’s the only real family I got,” Oliver stated, unabashed. “She’d be devastated if something happened to me, especially if it happened… in certain circumstances.”

“She doesn’t know you’re gay,” Brian guessed.

“Oh, she knows. But she expects me to find a nice, educated college professor and settle down, just like in _Gay as Blazes_.” Oliver smiled to an attractive, burly man that walked by winking at him. “And… well, even my mom knows that no one finds the love of their life by exploring the night scene.”

“Yeah… that just doesn’t happen, does it?” Brian remarked, hiding a smile behind his glass after taking a sip.

“I guess that, as you grow older you just start thinking less of you, and more of those who needs you,” Oliver considered.

“Luckily, no one needs _me_ ,” Brian stated, ogling an African demi-god who walked by them.

“Not even your son?”

Oliver regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, for Brian gave him a glare that could have made the desert freeze over. He’d heard about his boss’ son at work, about his disease. He didn’t know there was a problem in mentioning it.

“He’s got his mothers. If somthing was to happen to me, they'd take good care of him on their own,” Brian ended up saying.

“Hum… I see…” Having gotten away with his first indiscretion, Oliver couldn’t resist asking for the _other_ thing he’d heard at the office. “What about… your partner?” Brian’s partner was something Oliver was curious about, maybe because he couldn’t picture his boss having any kind of romantic relation with anyone. It seemed theirs was an unusual partnership… but a long lasting one as well.

“He does just fine without me too,” Brian mumbled.

“Well, he must be _with_ you for a reason,” Oliver pointed out, responding to the seductive smile of a young man who swayed to the music not far from them.

“Yeah, it’s because I chain him to my bed every night,” Brian deadpanned.

Oliver laughed. “Now, who wouldn’t like that?” The dancer beckoned him to join the waving crowd and Oliver laid his glass on the counter. “Well… It looks like someone needs _me_ now! See ya!”

Brian watched Oliver walk away towards his new dance partner, then his eyes followed a sculpted torso that was heading to the backroom. Maybe _he_ should have asked Oliver to dance, Brian thought. Yeah, he should have done that. He downed his drink and went after the attractive torso.

The backroom. Brian’s sanctuary. The place he went when nothing else felt right. Of course that getting blown by a stranger didn’t make a damn thing feel right either, but it was distracting enough for a while.

Brian walked among the sweaty, moaning couples – and threesomes – bordering the dark room as they gave in to their primal urges. He’d never quite seen all these men as real people, they were just life-size toys in his playroom, and everything that mattered about them was from the neck down.

This time, however, he found himself studying their faces – whenever that was possible – rather than their bodies. He recognized a few. Could it be one of them, the one who’d talked when he shouldn’t have? Or was that himself?

Coming from the depths of the backroom, the sculpted brunet walked to him, his gaze capturing Brian’s in a silent invitation. Brian looked the man up and down, before letting him get closer, until his face was a mere couple of inches away. The man went for Brian’s lips, but Brian turned his face away and ended up being licked on the side of his neck. The sensation was unexpectedly unpleasant.

Grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt, Brian pulled him to the nearest wall and pushed him down on his knees. There was no resistance whatsoever.

Brian threw his head back and closed his eyes as he let the guy’s mouth work on him. And the man went back to being just another toy. That’s how it should be, so there were no apologies and no regrets.

It was too late now. He regretted already.

Brian looked around, his body feeling pleased while his mind ran from it. So many men, so many people…

He couldn’t make a guess on how long it had taken for him to come, but it must have been quite a while given the impressed look on the other man’s face when he raised back up to Brian’s eyelevel.

“You… are amazing,” he uttered, a little out of breath.

Brian gave him a bored look. “I guess I am.”

“What about we continue this at your place? They say it’s awesome!”

Brian’s nostrils flared at the suggestion. “No fucking way,” he roared.

The other man smirked. “What’s the matter? You have your boyfriend in?”

“What the fuck do you know about my boyfriend?” Brian snapped, getting into the man’s personal space, this time in a not so pleasant way.

The man stepped back. “Hey, calm down! You didn’t want to kiss, so I just assumed, ok? Geez…”

Brian glared at him for a moment longer before giving him his back.

“Wait! We can go to my place, it’s no problem! Hey!” the man tried, but Brian was leaving and wouldn’t come back.

Brian exited the club going into the back alley and looked around. The guys here weren’t any shier than those inside, but Brian wasn’t interested in their activities anymore. He headed for the only corner where the men were actually just talking to each other and patted an old acquaintance in the shoulder.

“Hey. Got something for me?”

Recognizing Brian, the dealer made a small packet appear in his hand in less than a second. He was one of his most trustworthy customers, always paid upfront. A bill disappeared inside the dealer’s inner pocket right before the packet with a couple of pills went inside Brian’s.

Brian went back inside the club, crossing the backroom and mingling with the dancing crowd. At some point, he bumped into Oliver, who was now dancing with a different guy, but Brian didn’t pay attention to him. Everything he needed now was inside his pocket.

He took the small packet and emptied it on his open palm. He’d swallow one of those magical tablets and everything would be happy and friendly around him. Yes, it would be just for a few hours, and yes, it was a complete lie, but it would last while it lasted, and afterwards…

“How about sharing?”

Brian raised his eyes. The young man was dancing too close and smiling at him. Except for his youth, he looked nothing like Justin, but suddenly Brian thought of him.

“You know what? You can have it all,” Brian declared, dropping the tablets onto the surprised youngster’s palm. As he stared with amazement at the unexpected gift, Brian turned around, giving rise to protests among the crowd as he pushed everyone out of his way. He couldn’t escape the dance floor fast enough.

Brian exploded through Babylon’s front door and strode with heavy steps towards his car while lighting a cigarette. Stopping by the Corvette, he exhaled his first cloud of smoke and took a deep breath. Then he kicked the front tire as hard as he could once, twice, thrice, until it caught the attention of a passing police officer and he decided to get inside the car to avoid trouble.

Brian gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white and almost burnt out the entire cigarette with the second drag. He exhaled, letting his forehead rest on the wheel. _Tonight will be a fucking long night._

 

 

Michael woke up with the first couple of knocks, but thought he was still dreaming and snuggled further down under the blankets. Only when the knocks became continuous and Ben elbowed him in the ribs did he fully wake up.

“Who’s it at this hour,” Ben whined.

“I don’t kno…” Michael’s eyes widened. “Brian!” He jumped from the bed, not bothering to put something over his boxers, and ran to the door, followed by a yawning Ben.

As expected, he opened the door to find Brian with his fist still raised to go on knocking. “About time!” he grumbled, all but pushing Michael aside to get into the darkened living room.

“What happened?” Michael asked, anxious following Brian as he made himself at home by sprawling on the couch. “Is it Gus? What...?”

“It’s not Gus,” Brian cut off.

It took Michael a few seconds of huge eyes and racing heart to absorb the information that nothing tragic had happened. “Then... what are you doing here…” Ben turned on the lights and he took the chance to look at the clock. “…at three in the morning?”

“Babylon wasn’t entertaining me anymore,” Brian declared, throwing one of the cushions in the air, following its path up and down, and catching it over and over again.

Ben rolled his eyes and Michael huffed in exasperation.

“Have you been taking something?” Ben asked Brian, trying to understand his fidgety demeanor.

“No!” Brian snatched the cushion from midair and sat upright. “I didn’t take anything, _that’s_ the problem.”

Michael sat beside Brian. “What, no drugs at Babylon?”

“I knew that sooner or later they would make you clean that place up,” Ben commented.

“I’m not cleaning Babylon,” Brian grunted. “It’s myself…”

“Your…self?”

“Yeah, Mikey, I’m cleaning myself up,” Brian declared, a bit more aggressive than needed. His next words came out as an almost unintelligible mumble, as he squeezed the cushion between his fingers. “And I was doing a fine job of it until I decided to do back _there_ …”

Michael and Ben exchanged a confused look.

“Brian… don’t take me wrong, I think it’s great that you want to stop doing drugs, but… Why the sudden urge?” Ben asked. “You never seemed to see it as a problem before.”

“Yeah, I never did,” Brian admitted, taking the last cigarette from his pack and lighting it. “That’s before I screwed up…”

“What did you do?” Michael asked, worried.

Brian stared at him while taking a drag from the cigarette. Should he tell him? “Doesn’t matter, it was nothing major,” he ended up saying, not believing in a single one of his words.

“I don’t believe a single one of your words,” Michael declared. “Whenever something happens you _dive_ into the drugs, you don’t stop using. So, spill it!”

Brian eyed him, wary. He didn’t want to ‘spill it’. He felt like a naughty child, confessing a small misdeed that had gone out of hand. But he knew it wasn’t a small misdeed. It had never been a small misdeed.

“It’s Hobbs. He found out where Justin lived. He went to New York after him.”

“What?!”

“It was a few weeks ago,” Brian clarified, given Michael and Ben’s shocked expressions. “Turned out he just wanted to talk to him… to sort of… apologize.”

“Really?” Michael uttered. “Oh my god! Is… Justin ok?”

Brian nodded.

“Well… at least the guy regretted his actions. That’s something,” Ben considered, earning a scorching glare from Brian.

“The fuck he regretted! The guy’s the most fucked up of closet cases. And now he knows where Justin lives…” Brian grumbled, smashing the cigarette bud on an ashtray that Ben had thoughtfully planted in front of him.

“It’s not a very pleasant thought,” Michael admitted. “But… nothing _bad_ happened, right?”

“Yet…” Brian added.

“Wait… what does that have to do with your sudden desire to go clean?”

Brian chewed on his thumbnail for a while before he answered. “Hobbs found about Justin going to New York by asking around at Babylon.”

“Ok… so?”

“So, Justin didn’t mention it to anyone that could have been there.”

“Oh! Well, I didn’t either,” Michael assured, misinterpreting Brian’s words. “Why would I? I mean, Justin’s life isn’t exactly the first conversation topic that comes to mind!”

“It is, if Justin’s all you think about and you’re out of your mind high,” Ben pointed out. “In those circumstances, that’s _the only_ thing that comes to mind.”

Brian’s closed face was enough to tell them Ben’s words had been spot on.

“Oh… so, _you_ told someone?” Michael asked.

“I might have. There’s stuff I don’t remember,” Brian deadpanned.

Michael understood then why the sudden resolve. He squeezed Brian’s shoulder.

“Well… What if you did tell? I mean, you could never know that…”

“No, Michael. Don’t underplay it,” Ben intervened, for their surprise. “It could very well have been you, Brian, who first gave away, inadvertently, Justin’s whereabouts to someone. Of course that said someone would never bring that up again with anyone else if you and Justin weren’t so… hum… _well known_ among Babylon’s party boys.”  

Michael glared at Ben. Why was he poking at Brian’s open wound? It wasn’t like him to be cruel!

Similar thoughts crossed Brian’s mind, although he felt more surprise than resentment. He guessed that even Zen Ben got pissed off when he had to get up in the middle of the night. "I'm aware of that, Professor."

“It’s not that I think you should beat yourself up over this,” Ben said. “If Hobbs was so determined, he’d end up finding Justin through some other route. His location isn’t a secret, after all. I’m just glad that something _finally_ worked as a wake-up call for you.”

“Well, I wish something could put me to sleep now,” Brian retorted with a fake smile.

Michael eyed him, guarded. “So, you’ll just… stop using everything?”

“Christ, no!” Brian protested. “Just stuff that can make me too friendly, too horny or too delusional.”

“I see…” Michael nodded in understanding. “So, you’ll have to stay clear of E…”

“And K,” Ben added.

“Also weed, poppers...”

“Coke…”

“Acid…”

“And alcohol,” Ben concluded.

Brian stared at them, slack-jawed, as they listed all of his possible lifesavers. He let his head fall back on the couch’s backrest. “I’m so fucked…”

“It’s ok… You’ll get through it…” Michael rubbed Brian’s arm, trying to comfort him, and threw Ben a pleading look.

“When you go through difficult times, it can be pretty hard to resist the easiest way out,” Ben considered, empathetically.

“Is there a _hardest_ way out?” Brian asked. "As long as it's out, I take it!"

“I don’t think so, not like that,” Ben said. “But there are ways to keep yourself together while staying in.”

Both Brian and Michael gave him questioning looks.

“I’ll probably regret bitterly of ever making this suggestion,” Ben said. “But… have you ever tried meditation?”

Brian scoffed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all. I think it could help you.”

“Thanks for the thought, Professor, but your spiritual shit is not for me," Brian grumbled, reaching for his pack of cigarettes only to recall it was empty.

“See, that’s a common misconception about meditation. In itself, it’s not a spiritual thing. It’s a simple mental exercise that anyone can practice," Ben explained. "It helps in increasing focus, reducing stress… It just happens to be used as a tool for some spiritual practices, but there’s nothing transcendent about it. It helped _me_ a great deal."

Brian wouldn’t minimize everything Ben had gone through, but he still wasn’t convinced. However, he was at Michael’s place, it was the middle of the night, and sleeping was out of question.

“So… what should I do? Close my eyes and think I’m in a sunny field of daisies?” he scorned.

Ben made a condescending smile. “Actually is preferable that you keep your eyes open. And the idea is _not_ to think of anything at all.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

“With lots and lots of practice. Now, sit with your back straight, look slightly down and focus in a point right in front of you,” Ben instructed.

Brian rolled his eyes but, to Michael’s surprise, did what he was told. “I must be losing it…” he mumbled.

Michael remained silent while Ben taught Brian his meditation technique but, inwardly, he agreed.

 

 

“Crap! Utter crap, that’s what it is!” Colin protested, looking at the canvas, desolate with the result of an entire day’s work.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Justin mumbled, without averting his eyes from the computer screen where he finished coloring a comic book page.

“How can I not be? I have to present this next week and… well, look at it! It’s a monster!”

Justin laughed at the exaggeration and spun on his chair to face his friend. “Well, I’m in need of a monster here, so maybe you can help.”

“What?”

“See, Rage and J.T. are going back to their home planet, and they’re supposed to be attacked by a space dwelling creature. I’m still not sure how it will look like.”

Colin dropped his paintbrush and gladly abandoned his work to pull a chair and sit beside Justin.

“Nice spaceship!” he commented, studying the page Justin had on screen.

“Yeah, it’s a new addition. I’m still working on the design.”

“So, what do you want for this creature?”

“I was thinking of something massive, you know? Like, half the size of the ship or so. And maybe…”

Justin’s explanation was interrupted by the ring of the phone.

“It must be Brian.” Justin went to pick up the call, while Colin grabbed a sketchbook – they were never out of reach in their place.

Brian was now back in Toronto. He seemed to feel more and more at home there. The previous weekend, even when they could only speak to each other over the phone, he’d sounded particularly relieved as soon as he’d found himself on Canadian soil. He’d mentioned something about finally escaping ‘the Professor’s Tibetan torture’ – which Justin had found strange since he’d always taken Tibetans for the ultimate pacifists.

Justin suspected it had more to do with being close to Gus than being away from the Professor. Gus’ condition had been improving streadily over the past couple of weeks, but Justin knew that it didn’t make it any easier. He himself didn’t felt too good being away for so long. He already worried a lot about Gus before, but after the transplant, it was like the boy's cure had become his personal responsibility. He was also sure that, whatever anxiety he was feeling, Brian felt it ten times worst.

“Hello?”

“Is this Mr. Justin Taylor residence?” It wasn’t Brian.

“Yeah, this is him…?”

“Joshua Harris here. Not sure if you remember me, I bought your painting _Missing_ , at the Luxolis.”

“Oh!” Justin uttered, intrigued. “Yes, I remember.”

“You should have received recently an envelope on your mail from the American Federation of Arts…?”

Justin’s interest spiked. “Oh! The mail…” He looked questioningly at Colin, who was generally the first to arrive home and bring the mail up. Justin hadn’t checked his in a couple of days. Colin pointed to their worktable with the pencil and continued pouring his monstrous inspiration onto the sketchpad. Justin ran there and soon found the mentioned missive, a rather thick envelope, under a couple of advertising flyers. “I did receive it, but I haven’t opened it yet…” Justin had to confess.

“Good!” Harris exulted. “I was afraid you might not get it. It was so difficult to get your contact address from Luxolis!... I wasn’t sure everything would be right with it. I actually had to go there in person and properly identify myself as representing the AFA so they handed it to me!”

“Yeah, that’s because I had some privacy issues and… wait, you represent the…?”

“AFA, yes. In this case, at least,” Harris confirmed, amused by the question. “And… well, you’ll need time to check the actual message, but since I’m talking to you, I can as well tell you what’s it about. Basically, what you’ll find inside that envelope is a pamphlet.”

“A… a pamphlet?” Justin palpated the envelope. It felt a lot more voluminous that any pamphlet should be.

“Yeah, it’s an announcement. We’re now accepting applications for a particular project… an emerging artists’ exhibition. I thought you might be interested. Actually, _I_ am interested that you get interested,” Joshua Harris confessed.

“Oh…” Curious, Justin held the phone between his ear and shoulder to open the envelope. It didn’t contain just a pamphlet. It was complete with all the necessary application forms.

“Well… I think it’s no secret that I’m a big fan of your work…”

“Thanks. I read your critic."

“Oh, you read that?” Harris sounded proud. “I think it’s best that you read everything we sent you thoroughly before deciding anything but… I wanted to let you know that I’m a member of the board that’s gonna choose the dozen artists that’ll get to expose their works… and that I strongly believe you should be one of them,” Harris declared. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m just one of the members of a jury with six elements, and there will be thousands of artists applying, so I can’t guarantee you a place, just my support.”

“Huh… thanks. I appreciate it. But I…”

“I’m sorry. I’m rushing,” Harris cut off. “I just threw all this in your face. You take your time, read through everything and… we’ll see what you think. But, I should reinforce that it is a great opportunity for someone with your talent to be discovered by the artistic community… and to do a little traveling, of course,” he added.

“Traveling…?”

“Yes. I thought I’d mentioned it, this is gonna be an itinerant exhibition. It’ll be in multiple sites in the US and Canada. If we’re successful, we might consider taking it to Europe!”

“Oh…”

He didn’t sound enthused enough, so Harris hurried to add, “Of course the artists’ presence is not, strictly speaking, mandatory… but considering this entire structure is gonna be put up to promote new talents, I’d say it’s highly recommended. The artists’ expenses will be covered by the organization, of course.”

“Of course…” Justin repeated, dumbfound. He knew that something good was happening to him, yet it’d been so fast that he hadn’t even gotten the time to process and feel excited about it.

Harris realized it too. “Well, read the documents, take your time. If you have any doubts, feel free to call me. Here’s my phone number.”

Justin took note of the phone number – once again, the scattered paper and pencils came in handy – and Harris said his enthusiastic goodbyes. He sounded eager to hang up so Justin could read the pamphlet and become as enthusiastic about it as he was.

And Justin was beggining to. Promote his works all over the country, and maybe even Europe... it was hard not to feel excited by the possibility. Of course that would also mean he'd be away from Brian, much further away than he was now.

“Who was it?”

Justin stopped staring blankly at the content of the envelope and raised his eyes at Colin. “Huh?”

“It wasn’t the psycho guy, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t Hobbs _,”_ Justin went back to his seat by the desk to read the documents attentively, and caught a glimpse of Colin’s sketchpad. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I was trying a take on your monster.” He handed Justin the sketchpad so he could see the rough draft. “I thought it’d make it look like an asteroid… you know, like a sort of camouflage.”

“That’s pretty cool!” Justin studied the drawing, impressed by how well Colin had caught his style.

“Feel free to use it. As long as my name shows up in the credits!”

“Sure!”

Justin put the envelope from AFA aside. He’d have the time to read it and consider it later. Now he and Colin had a monster to work on.

 

 

Gus did medical tests almost every day. What didn’t happen every day was the doctor requesting to talk to all the parents about them. So the next Friday, when Dr. Campbell asked for a reunion, all sorts of dark things crossed Brian’s mind.

His first instinct was having a few strong drinks to take the edge of. To his credit, he tried to resist. He even tried meditating, as Ben had taught him, but it was no use. His mind wouldn’t quiet down and it just left him more frustrated. He ended up downing a couple of glasses of Jim Beam before going to the hospital.

When he got there, Melanie was inside the room with Gus. Lindsay waited outside for the doctor, throwing impatient glances at the nearest turn of the corridor. She hugged him without a word.

Brian’s eyes lit up when, moments later, he saw Justin walk to him down the corridor. Those two weeks had felt like a lot longer than they should but, in a way, that had been a good thing. He’d had some things to think through, important decisions to make. He’d have to talk to Justin about it, but this was not the time. For now, he took him into his arms and kissed his welcoming lips, probing them with the tip of his tongue. Brian smiled when Justin tasted his own lips and kissed him again.

“So, where is he?” Melanie demanded, approaching them. “Hi, Justin,” she added on second thought.

“I don’t know, he said five thirty,” Lindsay said, also impatient, hugging her own torso.

Brian didn’t say anything, but he was crushing Justin’s hand in his. Justin squeezed back without complaining.

“Good afternoon!” Dr. Campbell greeted, appearing from behind them, the exact opposite direction that they expected. He held a big, brown envelope that the three parents eyed as if it would bite them.

Before saying anything else, the doctor took his time shaking everyone’s hand, irking Brian.

“Can we just cut to the chase?”

The doctor made a small smile, already used to Brian’s bluntness. “Of course. So, I just received Gus’ blood counts…” He searched inside the envelope. “Let me see… it’s in here somewhere…”

“Just tell us, how bad is it?” Mel asked.

“Bad?” the doctor uttered, surprised. “No, I have good news for you!”

Lindsay stepped closer to the doctor, anxious. “Good?”

“Yeah! Here it is.” Dr. Campbell pulled a few sheets of paper out of the envelope to show them one by one. “This is from the last three days. As you see, his white blood cell counts are beginning to go up.”

“So, this means…”

The doctor smiled openly. “It means that the stem cells we collected from the bone marrow of Mr. Taylor here have settled and started working. So, if everything remains fine with Gus, he may leave the hospital in about a week.”

Justin felt his legs weaken, and was glad Brian’s hand was keeping him up.

Melanie and Lindsay hugged each other, laughing and crying at the same time.

Brian couldn’t believe it was real. “That’s really… are you sure?”

Dr. Campbell nodded. “Wouldn’t tell you if I wasn’t,” he pointed out with a smile.

Justin’s anxiousness had turned into exploding happiness. He held Brian’s dumbfound face in his hands, stroking his cheeks. “Gus is gonna go home, Brian! He’s gonna be fine!”

“He’s gonna be fine…” Brian repeated. This was real, he realized, seeing Justin’s sunshine smile. More than hugging Justin, he fell on his arms. “He’s gonna be fine…”

That evening was the first time Justin saw Brian happy, truly happy, in months. He teased Justin as he drove his Corvette all the way back to his apartment.

“So, how many guys did you get to do in these two weeks?”

“Hum… one,” Justin said, amused.

“Was he hot?”

“Yeah, it was me,” Justin chuckled. “I barely had time to lift my butt from the desk chair while I wasn’t at work. How about you? You got to go to Babylon?”

Brian nodded as he pulled over near his building.

“And?”

Brian made a strangely sweet smile. “Same old, same old…”

When they got inside the apartment, Justin had just enough time to drop his bag on the floor before being attacked by Brian’s lips. Their clothes were scattered everywhere from the entrance to the bedroom when they both fell on the bed, chuckling.

A couple of hours later, Brian rested his back on the bed’s headboard and Justin straddled his lap. They were both pleasantly tired, sweaty and lubed. Brian had exaggerated and gotten both their bodies very slippery. It had felt great.

Brian was smiling a full, tender smile. Justin knew this was the kind of smile that only he got to see, and he loved it, but on the other hand… “I wish you’d let everyone see you like this,” he mumbled onto Brian’s cheek.

“Like what?” Brian asked lazily, running his hands up and down Justin’s back.

Justin pulled back a little, to study Brian’s face. What should he call it? Open? Unguarded?

“Naked.”

Brian laughed. “You mean that there’s someone who didn’t see me like that?”

“You know what I mean…” Justin said, leaning onto Brian’s shoulder.

“I know. And it’s a terrible idea,” Brian declared, cupping Justin’s cheeks to peck his lips.

“How do you know?”

“It’s already turned out badly.”

Justin frowned, pulling Brian’s hands from his face. “What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, Brian pushed Justin on his back, lying on top of him. “You know that… agreement we had? Never the same trick twice and such? Is that still standing?”

“Huh… yeah, I guess so…” Justin uttered, confused.

“I want to change that,” Brian stated, combing Justin’s hair back with his fingers. “I want to change the rules.”

Justin wasn't too surprised. After all, they spent so much time away from each other now, and they were both so busy… He knew that something would have to change.

It didn’t matter. He knew Brian loved _him_. That was the only important thing. He nodded in acceptance. “Ok.”

Brian smiled. “Well… then… for the times to come, I’ll just hook up with other guys when you’re with me.” There. He’d said it. He couldn’t turn back now. To know that made him feel good, lighter.

“What?”

"I don't want to hook up with strangers by myself anymore,” Brian enunciated. “Only if you're with me.”

Justin just stared at him, dumbfound. He didn’t expect this, and he didn’t know what to think of it.

Brian raised his eyebrows. “So?”

“Are you sure about that? I mean…”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Brian stated, prompt.

“Ok…” Justin said, guarded. “But… why? Why this… now?”

“Why, Sunshine, I thought we were partners!” Brian said, caressing Justin’s thigh and nuzzling his nose.

“Yeah, we are...”

“Aren’t we supposed to share all things with each other?”

A smile grew slowly on Justin’s face. “Yeah….” But he couldn’t ignore one fact. “It’s that… the last time you decided to pull off something like this…”

“This is not like the last time,” Brian cut off.

“How so?”

“This time I’m doing it for me.”

Justin’s eyebrows went up in interrogation. Brian stroked his cheek. “I don’t want to be out of it anymore. I don’t want to evade the real world with powders and pills and tricks. I want to… focus, I think.”

“Focus…” Justin’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Does this have anything to do with Ben’s Tibetan torture?”

Brian chuckled. “Maybe a little bit.” He shifted his weight, lying beside Justin and holding his hand. He stroked Justin’s fingers one by one with his thumb, staring intently at them. “So? Will you… help… me?”

“I said I would be here for you, didn’t I?” Justin looked at Brian’s eyes until they looked back into his, and he saw that special glint in them again. He smiled and cupped Brian’s cheek. “Not that you’ll need me much. After all, you still have your mental superpowers.”

 


	14. You Decide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... It looks like I managed to have another chapter ready! The previous note still holds, though - I'm not sure when I can have the next one. It won't be too soon... but hopefully it won't be too late!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! ;)

 

Daylight peeked through the window when Brian opened his eyes. How unusual. This had to be the first time that he slept through the whole night. Maybe because today was a good day. Well, better than most, anyway.

Beside him, Justin was still asleep. In the dim light, Brian could make out the back of his blond head resting on the pillow. His gaze followed the curve of Justin’s neck, the contour of his shoulder blades, the narrowing of his waist towards his hips, hidden underneath the sheets.

Brian scooted closer, his face as close to Justin’s neck as possible without touching him. The scent of Justin’s skin aroused him. It was Justin’s scent mixed with his own. It smelled of the love they’d made last night.

He inhaled deeply, running his fingers down Justin’s side, and planted an open mouthed kiss on the crook of the blond’s neck, tasting his skin.

Justin woke up with Brian spooning him, nibbling his ear.

“Rise and shine, Sunshine…” Brian murmured with a sleepy voice.

Justin smiled and stretched, pressing his body against Brian’s hard-on. “Hum… this is great improvement from the alarm clock,” he uttered, weaving a lazy hand through Brian’s hair and closing his eyes again.

“And it’s gonna get better,” Brian mumbled on Justin’s shoulder, sliding his palm over his chest, teasing his nipples with his fingertips. He ground his hips, his cock sliding in between Justin’s firm buttocks.

Brian smiled when Justin took his hand, guiding it to his own hardening shaft. He stroked it in time with his grinding, his other hand keeping a gentle grasp on Justin’s blond hair.

Justin loved their morning play. Well, he loved all bodily interactions with Brian, but it the morning, right after waking up, there was something special about it. They were both still half-asleep, sloppy and careless, and that’s what made it great, even if they ended up coming too soon. Plus, Brian always said the silliest things, things that he wouldn’t normally say when he was fully awake.

“You smell good… Sniffing you is better than poppers…” Brian mumbled, burying his nose in the crook of Justin’s neck making him smile. Things like that.

Justin’s hand urged Brian’s to squeeze harder and stroke faster.

Brian increased his grinding pace, letting out breathy moans as his cock rubbed on Justin’s crack. Soon he had Justin’s shaft pulsating in his hand, his climatic whimpers vibrating through Brian’s ribcage. Brian held Justin tightly to his chest as he too came hard in between their bodies.

Justin lay on his stomach, humming his satisfaction as Brian smooched his shoulders, running his palms up and down his arms. He felt like laying like this forever. “Do we have to get up now?”

“It’s still early,” Brian mumbled against the back of his neck.

"What time are we supposed to pick up Gus?"

"I gotta meet the doctor at eleven. After that we can take him home."

Justin turned around to face Brian, holding his face in between his hands. "Are you happy?"

Brian looked away before turning his gaze back to him. "It's not over yet."

Justin made a resigned smile. When he arrived at Toronto, knowing that Gus would be released from the hospital the next day, Justin was expecting to find a happier Brian, just like he was a week ago, when they had gotten te news that Gus' state was improving. For some reason, even though the doctor's optimistic predicitons had come to pass, the improvement wasn't reflected on Brian's mood. "It wouldn't hurt you to be a little optimistic once in a while, you know?"

"This is me being optimistic," Brian stated, stroking Justin's arm on the way to intertwine his fingers with those on his cheek.

Justin pecked Brian’s lips lightly and said nothing more. To him, it was too little, but better than nothing.

To Brian, it was too much. Optimism was never a good idea, Brian thought, even as he let Justin pull him playfully into the bathroom, smiling his sunshine smile at him under the shower, teasing him by running the soap over his skin, tasting his lips in kisses that no water could water down. He thought it even knowing Gus was being released from the hospital today. He knew that it wasn’t over yet.

Justin left the shower first. Since they had the time to spare, he’d decided to prepare something different for breakfast. It was a special day, after all, and Brian wasn't enjoying it as he should. Something to cheer him up, maybe something with chocolate. That was always a happy food.

When Justin walked into the living room with a tray full of special waffles, he found Brian sitting on the couch, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He was staring at the coffee table in front of him, immobile except for the occasional drag that he took from the cigarette in his mouth. Justin approached, laying the tray on the table quietly. He was sure that Brian had detected his presence even though he didn't move a muscle. If it wasn't for the regular coming and going of the cigarette smoke, he would've worried Brian might be dead.

"Hum... Brian?"

"Yes?" Only the slight wavering of the cigarette gave away the movement of Brian's lips.

"What are you doing?"

"Can't you see? I'm practicing meditation," he uttered, his lips pursed so the cigarette would remain between them.

Justin studied him, amused. "Hum... For some reason, I don't think that's exactly how it's supposed to be."

"What do you mean? I’m focusing on my breathing! Nicotine in... nicotine out... nicotine in... see?"

Justin chuckled, rolling his eyes. In truth, he was amazed that Brian was doing this in the first place. "I guess your mind does have wondrous superpowers," he joked, although the admiration in his tone was true.

"In that case, why am I still sitting here like an idiot?” Brian grumbled, smashing the cigarette bud on the ashtray.

“Don’t say that. I, for one, am glad to see you expanding your horizons, becoming a more open-minded person…” Justin teased, sitting beside him.

“I’m open-minded!” Brian protested.

“Sure you are… I'm just a bit worried that you'll end up leaving for the Himalaya to find your spiritual self and end up becoming a monk.”

Brian smiled and pulled Justin closer. “Fear not, Sunshine, for I’ll never let the curse of celibacy fall upon me.” He kissed Justin ostentatiously, before scratching his chin. “Although… Ben told me that some monks do perform sexual rituals. It seems that the orgasm is one of the fleeting moments we can all have a brief glimpse of enlightenment.” He rolled his eyes. “People need the silliest excuses to fuck...”

“I don’t think it’s silly," Justin declared. "Sex _is_ a powerful driving force. While some religions chose to keep it in chains as evil, some others see it as a source of life and great pleasure that can only come from the gods."

“I definitely grew up with the wrong religion, then," Brian considered.

“What else is new?” Justin sneered, stroking Brian’s cheeks as he kept him pressed against his chest.

“Maybe I _should_ go to the Himalaya…” Brian mused, before turning his eyes to Justin. “Or maybe I’ll stay right here… enjoying your nine inches of enlightenment.”

Justin chuckled and let Brian kiss him, welcoming his touch. He was beginning to remove Brian's towel when the phone rang.

Frowning, Brian picked it up from the coffee table. "Lindsay again," he huffed. She'd called at least tree times in the previous evening to make sure that Brian _really_ could pick Gus up, that he _really_ knew what time it was, that he _really_ remembered that he was supposed to take Gus back to her house. "Hello?... No, I didn’t fall asleep or forget about Gus... I didn't get distracted fucking either!" Justin repressed a smile. Brian rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know!... No... Yes! Bye!" Brian hung up and threw the phone over his shoulder and onto the cushions. "So, what do we have to eat?"

"Spicy orange waffles with chocolate chips," Justin announced, gesturing to the tray before them.

Brian eyed the crooked waffles on the plate. "Hm... Sounds better than it looks."

Justin chuckled. Here's why he liked to cook to Brian. He was the only person who wasn’t afraid to tell him when he didn't like something and, conversely, the only one Justin believed in when he said that he loved it.

 "It also tastes better than it sounds," Justin assured. "Come on, have a taste."

Brian obliged, making an approving nod.

"So... Lindsay really is going through with this... party?"

"It's why I'm the one getting the kid, isn't it?" Brian grumbled.

Lindsay and Melanie were preparing a 'welcome back' surprise party for Gus. Michael and Ben would be there, as well as some parents whose children Gus had befriended. Brian hated the idea with all of his being, and he couldn't even say why.

Justin stole glances at Brian all the way to the hospital. The chocolaty breakfast and morning banter seemed to have brightened his mood a little, but he still looked pensive. Justin opened his mouth to ask what was bothering him when Brian’s cellphone rang again.

“Can you pick that up?"

Justin looked at the phone. "Lindsay," he announced, amused, before picking up the call. "Hello?... Yes, we're on our way, Brian's driving... Yeah... Ok... We will... See ya!"

"So?" Brian asked when he hung up.

"She just wanted to make sure that we were coming on time."

"I don't think it's that much of a challenge to pick my son up from the hospital..." Brian grumbled.

"She's anxious," Justin said, appeasing. "You look a little anxious too..."

"I guess..." was the only answer.

It was Saturday, so the lobby of the hospital was quiet and mostly empty, the exception being an old man talking to the receptionist, and a blonde woman waiting for her turn to do so. Justin thought she was familiar, but it took him a while to recognize the face.

"Isn't that Maggie's mother?"

Absent-minded, Brian hadn't taken notice of the other people present, but he did it then.

"Yeah, that’s her," he said, a edge on his voice that Justin couldn’t understand right away.

"I'm gonna ask about Maggie." Justin took a step towards the woman but Brian’s fingers clasped his arm, preventing him from going further.

"I can tell you about her," Brian deadpanned. "Maggie was readmitted as an inpatient yesterday. She caught some nasty infection and she's in the ICU now."

Justin’s eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn't met the girl for weeks, but the last time he’d heard of her, she was home and recovering. He realized then where Brian's stubborn pessimism came from and felt his own heart fall. It was concern about Maggie, the girl they all had come to care about, but also the feeling of their hope for Gus shrinking a tiny bit.

Justin watched Maggie's mother exchanging a few words with the receptionist before heading to the elevators. He held Brian's hand as he too approached the front desk.

Brian’s talk to the doctor didn’t take long. Apparently, the mothers had made him explain everything to them in the previous day, which irked Brian. Why send him to pick Gus up if they didn’t fully trust him with it? _Maybe because you weren't trustworthy in other times,_ a silent voice murmured inside his head.

Brian had left Justin with Gus in the playroom, all his stuff already packed and ready to go, while he spoke to Dr. Campbell. He came to find them doodling together in Justin's sketchpad. He leaned on the door frame in silence, looking at them. Gus loved to draw, hence enjoying Justin's company so much. Perhaps there would be another artist in the family. Watching Justin teach Gus how to hold the pencil Brian felt... weird.

Justin noticed Brian's presence. He also noticed the familiar look on his face, the one he always had lately, every time Justin was with one of the kids. Only this time Justin wouldn’t back away for him. Instead, he returned the gaze with both interrogation and challenge in his eyes. A look that had Brian intrigued.

"We’re going now, Da?" Gus asked, breaking the strange eye contact between the two men.

Brian smiled at him and stroked his hair. “Yeah, we’re going.” He picked his son up.

Justin grabbed his sketchbook and Gus’ bag to follow him. When he got closer, Brian surprised him by caressing his head much like he’d done to Gus. Justin smiled at him, and Brian smiled back. Any trace of disgruntlement was gone for now.

As they walked down the corridor to the exit, Justin came to a halt. “Brian… I want to go see her before we go.”

Brian didn't need to ask what he was talking about. He nodded. “We’ll wait for you in the car.”

Maggie was in the same room Gus used to be, the same with the glassed wall and restricted entry. Her mother was reading a magazine and didn't notice Justin's presence, but Maggie waved at him. A very week wave, with a very week smile. Justin waved back, and mouthed 'get better'. She made one of her usual smirks and pointed the IV, as if to say, 'I'm trying.'

When Justin got back to Brian and Gus, his heart wasn't as light as it should have been.

Soon they arrived at the girls’ house, and Brian opened the door with the key Lindsay had entrusted him with. When they stepped into the dark inside, it suddenly lit up, showing a room full of familiar and some not so familiar faces yelling, “Surprise!” and causing Brian to roll his eyes.

Gus was surprised, alright. Shocked, even, his big eyes wide, taking everything in, trying to understand. Lindsay came to take him from Brian, showing him around the room, decorated with ribbons and balloons.

“But… it’s not my Birthday. Is it?” Confused, the boy contemplated the possibility of having lost track of time while he stayed at the hospital.

Justin was amused by the reaction. “It kind of reminds me when I was four and my father dressed as Santa for Christmas,” he commented to Brian. “I freaked and cried my eyes out. Christmas was never the same again.”

“There’s a trauma I’ve never had to recover from,” Brian said.

Gus recovered fast. Five minutes later, he was already running around the house with his little friends, laughing and yelling for no reason other than to make noise.

Brian sat on the couch, smoking and following him with his eyes. Justin leaned on the armrest next to him. He searched for Michael among the people present, since he’d brought his sketchbook to show him some of his new ideas for Rage, but his gaze lingered with curiosity in some unknown faces. There weren’t many, just two couples he’d never seen before, most likely the parents of the children who were playing with Gus. An elegant woman with long, auburn hair caught his attention because, despite standing by her husband while he engaged in animated conversation with Ben, she seemed remarkably interested in Brian. She hurried to avert her eyes when they met Justin’s observing gaze.

“Hey!” Michael surprised them, showing up from behind the couch and sitting beside Brian.

“There you are! I wanted you to see this.”

Justin handed him the sketchbook and Michael took an amused look at the first page. “Your style seems to be evolving,” he jested, in face of the house and swing set drawn with childish traces.

Justin chuckled. “That’s Gus’. Take a look at the others.”

Michael turned the page and a pamphlet fell on his lap. It was the AFA pamphlet. He grabbed it, looking at both sides of it with curiosity.

“What’s this, you have a new exhibition?”

“No, that’s just something that… it’s a sort of contest that I might apply to,” Justin said, dismissive, as if that wasn’t something that had been in his mind the whole week. He knew that any other young artist wouldn’t think twice about it. But he did, twice, thrice, many times. And he kept thinking, even though, deep down, his decision was made right from the start. “I’ll get a drink while you check the sketches," he said, avoiding further questions on the subject. "Can I bring you anything?”

Both Brian and Michael shook their heads. As Justin walked towards the table, Michael studied the pamphlet instead of the sketches.

“An itinerant exhibition… Did you know about this?” he asked Brian.

Brian nodded. He’d known. Justin had told him about it when he’d arrived, using the same carefree tone in which he'd spoken to Michael just now. The exact same too-carefree tone. “That critic who bought one of his paintings is coaxing him to apply. Looks like he’s one of the judges.”

“Meaning that he’d have a pretty good chance of being selected,” Michael concluded.

“Justin says that's not like that, that the guy’s just one among six. I say that’s better than zero among six.”

Michael nodded. He read the back of the pamphlet and raised his brows. “There’s _a lot_ of places they wanna take this exhibition to…” he remarked, looking at Brian through the corner of his eye.

On his turn, Brian just took a drag from his cigarette.

"So, if… if Justin gets to be a part of this… he might be away for a while, huh?" Michael said, straight to the point this time.

“I guess so,” Brian said, exhaling the smoke in the process. He took another, pensive, drag. "You know what amazes me?"

"That he keeps going away?" Michael uttered, unable to hide his slight disgruntlement.

Brian smiled. "That he keeps coming back."

“I’m back!” Justin announced, approaching them holding a glass of juice.

Brian raised his eyebrows as if saying 'I told you so', and Michael smiled in spite of himself.

“Not even a beer in sight! It’s a completely alcohol free party,” Justin protested, desolated, before sitting beside Michael. “So, what do you think?”

“Well, I haven’t seen everything yet…” Michael began to confess, but Lindsay cut him off, stopping by them as she transported a plate full of appetizers.

“Brian, can you please smoke outside? The children…” she admonished, before resuming her path to the table.

Brian rolled his eyes but stood up, ready to oblige. “Have fun, boys,” he said, sounding bored, leaving them to their sketches.

Concentrated on showing Michael his work, Justin didn’t notice the woman with auburn hair, going out to the backyard not even five seconds after Brian did.

Outside, finishing his cigarette, Brian walked toward the swing set to lean onto the green frame. He still remembered how difficult it had been to assemble that thing back in Pittsburgh, but he wasn’t particularly glad that he hadn't taken part on it the second time. The girls had gotten a small, yellow slide for Gus too. He now had his own playground.

He only noticed the woman next to him when she spoke. "Do you have a light?" She had a cigarette between her fingers and a somewhat mischievous smile.

Surprised, Brian retrieved the lighter from his pocket and lit her cigarette.

"Thank you." She blew a cloud of grey smoke, not bothering to hide the observing gaze that she had Brian under. "You're Brian, right? Gus's father?"

He nodded.

"I'm Jeremy's mother, Dana." She held out a hand and Brian shook it, uttering, "Right..." He had no idea who Jeremy was, but he'd bet on one of the noisy brats inside.

"Lindsay talks about you, sometimes, and I confess... I was very curious to meet you."

"Did she mention what a lousy, irresponsible father I am?" Brian deadpanned.

"No, that’s Melanie," she promptly replied, with the same mischievous smile.

Brian smirked. "I'm sure..." _But telling by the way you're looking at me, I'm also sure they both failed to mention that I'm a fag,_ he thought, amused.

The same thought crossed Justin’s mind when he walked through the door to the backyard and saw the woman talking to Brian, standing closer to him than necessary. He was divided between the obvious humor of the situation and the childish urge to go there and kiss Brian smack on the lips, marking him as his. He ended up deciding to stay where he was, pretending he'd just came to get some fresh air, and see how the situation would unfold.

"I can't say I blame her, though," Dana said. "If my partner had a son with an ex-lover... an _attractive_ ex-lover..." she added, intently. "...I'll probably be pissed at him all the time as well."

Brian made a lopsided smile. "Lindsay and I were hardly lovers. Once we slept together, that’s all."

"Oh! Well, she speaks so fondly of you... I guess I've assumed too much, then." Dana's satisfaction was plain in her tone.

Brian smirked. "I guess you have."

By then, Justin was too curious and too irked about not being capable of making out their words, so he risked a couple of steps away from the door.

The movement caught Brian’s attention. Pressing his lips together to conceal his smile, he gestured Justin to come closer. Dana couldn't completely hide her discontentment at the unwanted company, which amused Justin to no end.

Brian put an arm around his shoulders. "Justin, have you met Mrs... sorry, how's your husband's name again?"

Justin looked at her, trying to appear politely curious and completely oblivious to Brian's intentional mention to the woman's husband.

"Parker. John Parker," she said, dryly.

"Right! Mrs. Dana Parker is Jeremy's mother," Brian said, as if that was supposed to mean something to Justin.

“He looks like a lovely kid," Justin declared, playing along. He had no idea who Jeremy was either.

"Justin is my partner."

Dana's reaction to Brian's statement wasn't as strong as expected, and they realized why when she spoke her next words. "Oh... Lindsay mentioned you work in advertising...?"

Justin didn’t bother to hide an amused smile this time. Brian kept up his act, unwavering. "I do, actually. But... we're not that kind of partners." He smiled at Justin who, on cue, held him around the waist.

Dana's expression took a while to change, the same time it took for her to apprehend and process what Brian said. She blinked a couple of times, befuddled. "Oh... I didn’t know..." She managed a smile instead of losing any of this composure. "...that you had a partner. So, did you two moved to Toronto for good?"

Dana made small talk for a while longer, before excusing herself to go look for her son.

Justin waited for her to disappear inside the house before looking at Brian in mock reproval. "It wasn't enough to turn her down, you had to embarrass her?"

Brian shrugged. "If you choose to be a hypocrite, you shouldn't be embarrassed of facing your hypocrisy. It's not like she didn't know that she was trying to get some right under her husband's nose."

Justin chuckled. "The righteous Brian Kinney, always protecting the sanctity of matrimony! Of course that, had it been a guy in her place, he'd be facing his hypocrisy down on his knees before you."

"And you'd be fucking him." Brian grinned and pulled him for a kiss.

They walked back inside the house, hand in hand. A line of four children chasing each other ran past them, giggling. Brian smiled at seeing Gus among them. It made it hard not to hope for his full recovery.

He squeezed Justin’s hand tighter. "I'll never forget it. What you did for him," Brian said, his eyes still following Gus in his play race around the living room.

“I know. I'll never forget everything you did for me either."

Brian eyed Justin, who was looking back at him with a half-smile, and kissed him softly, his tongue prying the younger man’s lips open and setting his blood on fire.

Justin held both of Brian’s hands and pulled him toward the stairs. "Come, I want to show you something."

"Could that be... hum... your dick?" Brian guessed, climbing the steps after him.

Justin huffed, feigning exasperation. "You ruin all the surprises!"

They sneaked into the girls’ bedroom, muffling their laughter with kisses, like a couple of teenagers. Brian pressed Justin against the wall and his hands crawled under his shirt as he kissed him.

"Hey, boys!" Lindsay walked into the room, cheery, followed by Melanie, both ignoring the boys' obvious desire to be by themselves. "We finally find you alone." 

Brian stared at them with annoyance and Justin pulled his shirt back down, both thinking that they should have locked that door.

“We have something important to talk to you about so if you could please keep your dicks inside your pants in the meantime…?” Melanie added, in the same casual tone.

Lindsay gestured towards the bed in an overly polite manner. “Please, have a seat! Make yourselves comfortable!”

“Oh, wait… you already did!” Melanie said, stretching a smile.

Sitting on the bed beside Justin, Brian wondered about the origin of all that good mood. If not even Melanie was pissed about them going at it in her bedroom, whatever that ‘something important’ was, it must be really good.

The girls stood before them and Lindsay began to talk as if giving a lecture to a full classroom. “As you know, Mel and I decided…”

“Well, strictly speaking, _you_ decided it,” Melanie interrupted.

“And you agreed!” Lindsay retorted.

“Fair enough. Go on.”

Justin followed their exchange, amused. Brian frowned. It might be good for the girls, but he was starting to feel that he wouldn’t like it.

“As I was saying,” Lindsay proceeded. “We decided that, if everything went well with Gus, we’d have another child.”

There. Brian knew he wouldn’t like it. “I thought you’d already forgot about that nonsense,” he grunted.

“Of course I didn’t forget! This is a very important decision we’re talking about,” Lindsay protested.

“And if we want to do it, we can’t wait much longer, anyway,” Melanie added. “This is the right time.”

Brian stared at them in disbelief. He hadn’t expected Melanie to agree with this idea in the first place, but since she did, he had no choice but to resign. “Ok. So you’ll have a kid. What do you want, our blessing?”

Melanie and Lindsay exchanged a knowing look.

“Actually… we were hoping for a little more than that…”

Brian was about to ask what, but Lindsay’s intent look told him everything. He scoffed. “Well, don’t look at me! My little soldiers got a lot of radiation, and I don’t think it gave them superpowers.”

Justin laughed.

Melanie rolled her eyes. “Why are you always so self-centered? We weren’t going to ask _you_!”

Both girls turned their gazes to Justin and Brian did to, befuddled.

Justin stopped laughing. “W-what? Me?” he stuttered.

“Yes, Justin. We were hoping you’d accept to be our sperm donor,” Lindsay announced.

“You’re kidding,” Brian uttered.

“We’re not kidding,” Lindsay assured. “Actually we’ve considered asking you for our second child, but Mel said she didn’t want to have a baby from a baby, so…”

Justin scowled at Melanie and she raised her hands. “You were a teenager, ok? It was just weird.”

“So… what do you say?” Lindsay asked, softly.

“I… don’t know…” Justin uttered. This was so unexpected, he felt completely overwhelmed. And he'd thought that the AFA exhibition was a lot to think about!... He looked at Brian, who stared back at him, stunned, then back at Lindsay. “I mean… are you sure you want me to…?”

“Just so it’s clear, this won’t mean any obligations to you,” Melanie assured. “Lindsay and I are the parents. All you’d have to do is… you know…”

“I know," Justin hurried to say. "I know, but I…" He ran his hand over his hair. "I need to think about it.”

“Sure, there’s no rush!” Lindsay said, cheery. “How about we all go back downstairs, join the party, relax…”

How could she be so relaxed, Justin thought, as if she hadn’t just asked him to father a child?

“We were fine right here before you arrived,” Brian grumbled.

Melanie made a false smile. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But this happens to be _our_ room, and we’re the only ones allowed to fuck in it, so…” She pointed the door. “Out. Now.”

Brian rolled his eyes and obeyed. Justin followed him like an automaton.

The rest of the day went by without incidents. Mrs. Dana Parker didn’t even get close to Brian, who got to smoke his next cigarettes in peace. Michael finally saw all of Justin’s sketches and talked to him excitedly about his future plans for the story, but Justin didn’t get half of it. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girls’ proposal. Probably they were right, he shouldn’t make a big deal out of it. He should just jerk off into the cup and let them do the rest. But he knew that it would never be that simple. The girls were his friends. He would see that baby all the time, knowing it was his child. Not even Brian, who lived for the good life, had been able to be indifferent to fatherhood. How could he, someone that so many times had wondered about it? No, it wasn’t that simple.

When they got back to Brian’s apartment that night, after eating dinner at Lindsay’s, Justin was exploding with unanswered questions.

Brian noticed Justin's unusual silence, but he didn't break it, knowing very well where it came from. He waited for Justin to do it. Which he did, when they laid in bed side by side, and Brian kissed him in the dark.

"Brian... what do you think?"

He wasn't surprised that Brian didn’t need to ask what he was talking about. "Why do you care what I think?"

Justin rolled his eyes, before realizing Brian couldn't see it. "Well... for one, you have the experience."

For a moment there was only silence. Then Brian spoke. “Yeah, well... they say smart people learn from other people’s mistakes, so I hope you learn from ours. The girls had their count of problems with their so called donors, so you better think this through.”

Justin sighed. “I know that. Why do you think I don't know what to do?"

“If you do it, this is going to be _their_ child. They’re gonna raise him, or her, not you,” Brian proceeded. “And you’re gonna want to change that once the little thing pops out of Lindsay’s vagina, but you have to bear in mind beforehand that you can’t.”

Justin stared at the ceiling, taking in Brian’s harsh but truthful words.

“That said… this would still be your child as well,” Brian stated, in a softer tone. “Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

Justin looked at Brian, whose outline he could already make out as his eyes got used to the darkness. He was looking back at him.

“Anyway… I hope you’re not thinking of this as your big chance to have a kid. You’re young. You’ll have plenty of time and opportunities.”

“Will I?” Justin propped himself up on his elbow. “Brian, you always hated that I wanted to be a father. You make a face every time I’m with the kids, for Christ’s sake! Which is totally hypocritical of you, because you have a son, so I don't see why I can't also wish to..."

"Hey, hey!..." Brian cut off, grabbing him by the shoulders. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about…” Justin mumbled, but suddenly he wasn’t so sure. Brian sounded truly surprised. Had he imagined everything?

Brian leaned back on the headboard, staring at the darkness ahead. “Seeing you with the kids... Yes, it makes me think," he confessed, but instead of elaborating, he jumped ahead. "I never wanted to tell you how you should live your life. You know that, right?”

Justin nodded, guarded.

Brian continued. “What I’ve been thinking about lately is that… If I make you choose, that’s pretty much what I’ll be doing. And if you make the wrong choice…" He cupped Justin's cheek, letting his hand linger. "I don’t wanna be your wrong choice,” he murmured.

Justin smiled and hugged Brian, basking in the familiar warmth and softness of his naked skin. “The thing is..." he mumbled onto Brian's shoulder. "I don’t wanna be yours either.”

Brian chuckled, putting his arms around Justin. “Have your best shot at it…”

 


	15. Opportunity of a Lifetime

 

“Are you sure about this?” Colin asked.

“Yeah,” Justin affirmed.

"What about Brian?"

"What about him?"

"I don't think he'll like it..."

"No," Justin admitted. "But Brian doesn't own me, and he knows that."

"Of course. Of course he doesn't." Colin studied his friend. He did seem determined. “You might regret it...”

“I won’t.”

“Well, then…” Still uncertain about it, Colin leaned closer to Justin, and over him. He outstretched his arm and pulled the cord by the bus’ window, signaling the driver that he wanted to get out in the next stop, before leaning back on his seat. “…it’s _your_ art, but if I were you…”

Justin rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Why do people say that? If you were me, you’d be doing exactly the same thing I’m doing. Because then you _would be me_!”

 “That’s a good point,” Colin considered. And then reconsidered. “What I mean is, if I was in your place…”

“I know what you mean,” Justin cut off. “And I appreciate the advice. I’ve appreciated it all week. But you see… when I think of it, I realize I was never undecided in the first place.”

He’d avoided to think about the AFA exhibition all weekend. Gus was home and feeling better, everybody was happy and Justin wanted to be part of it for a while longer. But when he’d come back to New York, it had become impossible not to think of it. The deadline to apply was approaching and he hadn’t decided yet. That’s what he told Colin, anyway, so he wouldn’t say that he was a complete idiot. Justin did know what he wanted. And it had come the time to admit it.

Colin nodded in understanding. “It’s just… sad, I guess. After everything...”

“Yeah… But I can’t be everywhere at once, I have to pick my priorities,” Justin mused, looking out the window as the bus slowed down. It was approaching Colin’s stop.

“Well, you’re the one who know what works for you.” With an amicable pat on Justin’s shoulder, Colin stood up from his seat. “See you later.”

“See ya. Have fun!”

Colin showed him his fingers crossed, before leaving the bus. Justin smiled. Colin was going on a date. It wasn’t Heather this time, but some other colleague from college. Maybe this would be the one.

Justin was going on a date too. Sort of.

He hopped out of the bus a few stops ahead and walked up the block to a corner sidewalk café. It was a small establishment, and only one of the tables was ocuppied. Joshua Harris read a magazine, raising his eyes from time to time to look at the little girl sitting beside him. She was maybe nine years old and was deeply focused on her Gameboy.

Seeing the girl made Justin’s heart jump with a sudden, unexpected emotion that he couldn’t name, even though he knew exactly where it came from.

Even undecided as he was about Lindsay's proposition, ever since the possibility had opened before him, Justin couldn't help but fantasize about how it would be, how would his child look like. And with her blonde ponytail, light green eyes and fair skin, that girl looked exactly like he'd imagined a daughter of his would.

“Hey, Justin!” Harris stood up to shake Justin’s hand. "This is my daughter, Gabby. Gabby, say 'hi' to Justin."

"Hi, Justin," the girl uttered, without taking her eyes from the game.

"Hi, nice to meet you," Justin replied, conceiling a smile.

Joshua shrugged, apologetic. "I had to bring her along... It's my day to be with her, you see?"

"I know how it is. My parents are divorced too and my sister still has to live by the parenting schedule." Justin sat down in front of him, eyeing the girl. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come yesterday, but I’ve been really busy with…”

“Your comic book, yeah, you told me.” He eyed Justin as he took the application papers out of his bag. “So, have you filled it yet?”

“Hum... Actually, I have some questions…”

Harris smiled. “Well, I’m here to clear up any doubt.”

Justin took a deep breath. This was going to be a long talk.

The sky was becoming dark when they finally parted due to Joshua's endless recomendations and advice.

Before leaving, Harris made his daughter take his eyes from the console for two seconds to be polite and say goodbye to Justin. As politely, he smiled at her, his mind in a different place entirely.

Justin walked to the bus stop deep in thought. Now that his issue with Harris was done with, he felt like he couldn’t postpone his other decision any longer. He'd be back in Toronto in a couple of days, and after an entire week, the girls would be expecting some news.

He had no idea of what to do. He needed to talk to someone. Someone other than Brian.

Sitting under the awning of the bus stop, he grabbed his cellphone and called Daphne.

“Hey, stranger!” she greeted after a couple of rings. “I thought you’d forgotten about my existence altogether.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been really busy. Right now I’m calling you from a bus stop in between an after-work meeting with Josh Harris and going home to work on _Rage_.”

“Oh! _That_ Harris? How did it go?”

“Fine… as expected. But there’s something else I need to talk to you about…”

Justin moved to the back of the awning before speaking. The other people waiting for the bus didn’t need to know any more details of his private life. That’s where he told Daphne about Mel and Lindsay’s proposition.

“Oh my god! They asked you to be the father? That’s so cute!”

Justin rolled his eyes. “I was hoping for some objective advice…? You know, from an outsider’s perspective…?”

“Objective… right…” Daphne uttered. “Wait, so you didn’t answer yet?”

“No… Maybe I shouldn’t give it so much thought, I don’t know, but… I don’t know if I should do it…”

“I see… because that would be like handing your child to someone else, right?” Daphne said, understanding.

 “Well… I hadn’t thought of it quite like that… but I guess that’s a way to put it…” Justin frowned. “An even worse way…”

“But… you know that the girls will treat him well, right?”

“Yeah…” he admitted. “But…”

“And you’ll be able to see him and be with him, just like Brian and Gus, right?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Don’t tell me that you wanted to take care of a baby at this stage of your life!”

“Of course not! That’s why I don’t have one.”

“Well, the girls have a family, and they want to, so… why not?”

“You made it all sound very simple,” he grumbled.

“I just gave you the objective outsider’s perspective,” she pointed out.

“Give me your personal opinion, then. What should I do?”

“Knowing you?” Daphne made a long pause that Justin filled with expectation. “I don’t know…” she admitted with a whine.

He leaned against the back of the bus stop, sighing in resignation. It seemed that this question had no right answer.

 

 

“You tell him,” Lindsay asked. “You’re better at these things.”

“He’s your friend! You go!” Melanie protested.

The girls were sitting in their backyard’s bench by the door. J.R. played with building blocks, sitting on the grass next to her mothers, who watched Brian pushing Gus’ swing while the boy exploded in giggles. Brian had been spending _a lot_ of his time in their house that week.

Lindsay stood up and took a deep breath before walking to Brian. “Hey…”

“Hey,” Brian replied, keeping his eyes on the swing.

“Higher!” Gus demanded.

Lindsay peeked at Melanie, who raised her brows at her in a silent ‘go on’. Lindsay sighed. “Justin told me that he was coming earlier today. Shouldn’t you go pick him up?” she asked Brian.

“What time is it?”

“Six,” Lindsay informed, hopeful.

“It’s too early,” Brian declared. “He said he wanted to go straight to the hospital to visit that kid…”

“Maggie?”

“Yeah. I’ll pick him up later.”

“Higher!” Gus asked again, even though the swing was going as high as Brian dared to push him.

“I talked to her mother yesterday,” Lindsay said, forgetting momentarily about the important mission that had brought her here. “She’s no longer in isolation, but still feeling weak.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Justin really likes her, doesn’t he?”

“Of course he does. He has a thing for impertinent people,” Brian said, as he kept the swing swinging.

Lindsay smiled, and gave up on her mission altogether. “Gus, honey, that’s enough swinging for today. It’s time to go eat something.”

Gus whined as Brian slowed down the swing. “But I’m not hungry!”

“You’re never hungry. But we all have to eat. Plus, you have to take your meds. Come on.”

Grumbling, Gus took his mother’s hand and followed her inside the house. Lindsay gave Melanie an apologetic look as she stopped by her to pick J.R. up and take her inside. Melanie rolled her eyes and grabbed Brian’s arm before he could follow them. He raised and interrogative eyebrow at her.

“Listen, what Lindsay was trying to tell you but obviously couldn’t is… just because you don’t want to be a part of a proper couple, let alone a family, it doesn’t mean that other people don’t value these things. ”

Brian frowned.

“It’s not that we don’t appreciate that you want to spend _so much time_ with Gus. We do, and he certainly loves it but sometimes we need some… space, for ourselves,” Melanie concluded.

“In other words, you want me out,” Brian deadpanned.

“Keeping it simple? Yeah,” she admitted.

“Ok,” he said, turning his back on her to go inside.

Melanie was rooted in place for a moment, surprised by how swiftly he’d complied. She shrugged, and went after him.

Brian kissed Gus goodbye and stroke J.R.’s head distractedly before Lindsay walked him to the door.

“You and Justin can drop by tomorrow for lunch,” she suggested, as a way of apologizing.

“Thanks, but we already have plans.” It wasn’t true, but he'd make sure it would be.

“Oh, ok then.” Brian walked down the front steps before Lindsay called him again. “Say… did you and Justin talked about…”

Brian looked up at her. “About him jerking off for you?”

Lindsay grimaced. “Why do you always have to make everything sound so… unpleasant?”

Brian scoffed. “It’s what it is. It’s not my fault that you find it unpleasant.”

“Did you try to talk him out of it?” she asked, straightforward.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well… you don’t like the idea, do you?”

“I think you’re crazy for wanting to have another kid. I told you that from the beginning. But it’s your womb, and it’s his come, so it’s up to you.”

“And that’s all there is to it?” Lindsay probed.

“What else would it be?” Brian challenged.

Lindsay threw him a knowing smile, but made a dismissive gesture. "Nothing... So... has he made a decision yet?"

"I'm sure he'll tell you when he does," Brian deadpanned.

"Of course..."

Linsday's knowing look irked Brian. He pressed his lips together. "Why did you pick him, anyway?" he finally asked.

She smiled. “For the same reasons you did, I believe."

Brian rolled his eyes, but his expression softened.

"Well... I hope you boys show up during the weekend. I'd send kisses for Justin, but I'm sure they'll be delivered anyway." She walked back inside with an amused smile.

Brian stared at the door for a while before leaving, thoughtful.

 

 

About half an hour later, he found Justin by Maggie's hospital bed, showing her something on his sketchbook that seemed to amuse her. He carried that thing everywhere lately. Rage was getting more known, so Michael and Justin were making a growing effort to have new issues released at regular intervals.

"Are you sure that's appropriate for her age?"

"Brian!" Justin greeted him with a surprised smile. "I thought you'd still be at Lindsay's."

"Yeah, so did I," Brian admitted. He leaned forward to whisper next to Justin’s ear, "She sent kisses," and pecked his cheek. Justin faced him to receive the next kiss with his lips.

"Hey, minor here!" Maggie called out in protest.

Brian huffed and went to sit on the bed next to her feet. "So how's it going, Magpie?"

She grinned at him. "Peachy! For someone who has to lie in a hospital all day, I mean."

Brian hid a smile, before catching a glimpse of the sketches in her hands. "You're really showing Rage to her?" he asked in disbelief.

"Just the safe parts," Justin assured, as Maggie gathered the sheets of paper and hid them back inside the sketchbook, frowning at Brian's snooping. "So, what do you think?" he asked the girl.

"It's awesome! You have my permission to publish it," she declared, handing the sketchbook back to Justin.

Brian gave him a questioning look.

"I'll need you to see this too," Justin said to Brian, handing him the sketchbook. “Michael and I won’t publish it if you don’t approve of it.”

Brian raised the cover, his face turned into a question mark. The first page was covered in its entirety by a detailed drawing of a man that looked just like himself. Rage. He was sitting on a surface with undefined boundaries with his face buried on his palms, looking so devastated that it made Brian’s heart clench.

“What happened to him?” he asked, unable to take his eyes off of the picture.

“Well, you see…” Justin began, cautious. “Rage and J.T.’s son gets this nasty disease while they’re traveling back to their home planet…”

Brian raised his eyes at him, his eyebrows arching above them. Justin returned the gaze with uncertainty. Brian looked at the picture again. “Did I really look this bad?”

Justin made a wan smile. “You looked worse.”

 “You’re…” Brian dragged his gaze away from the drawing to look at Justin. “You’re really good, you know?”

“I guess…” Justin uttered, with a tentative smile. Modesty was not like him, but he’d never had Brian complimenting him so serious. It was unsettling in a way.

“Anyway… since when does Rage have a son?” Brian asked, shaking away the spell he’d been under for a moment.

“Since they adopted him in the latest issue. They met him in a mission they had in Lesbox.”

“Greece?”

Justin chuckled. “It’s not Lesbos, it’s Lesbox!”

“Oh! I see. That’s completely different,” Brian sneered.

“It’s a planet,” Justin explained. “It’s ruled my women and, men serve only as sperm donors and… huh…” He looked at Maggie before hiding his lips behind his palm to mouth ‘sex slaves’.

“Interesting. I wonder who came up with _that.”_ Brian snickered.

"Shut up, it’s awesome!” Justin chuckled.

Brian turned the page and smiled. “This one seems familiar.” He was looking at the comic book version of Maggie, as bald and childlike as the original, only wearing a long, draping tunic.

“That's the manifestation of Magda, the cosmic personification of Wisdom. She's the one who reveals to J.T. that his blood has the antibodies to fight their son's disease…” Brian made a lopsided smile. “We won’t use the story if you think that’s going too far,” Justin hurried to add.

“You _have_ to use it!” Maggie intervened. “It’s so cool!”

Brian raised his eyebrows. “She said it.”

Justin beamed at him. "Really?"

Brian nodded, taking a look at the other drawings. "So, what happens next?"

"I'll show you when we have it all ready to print. Michael also came up with the most awesome backstory for the boy and his mother, but we couldn’t squeeze it all in the same issue, so we had to drop it.”

"Make a special number," Brian suggested.

"We’d have to make a gazillion special numbers to cover all the amazing side characters that Michael created and don’t have enough ‘screen time’. But well, these are Rage comics, we have to stick to Rage's story.” Justin shrugged, resigned.

"Rage Comics…” Brian uttered.

"What?”

 "Nothing, just... It sounds like a good name for a publisher," Brian considered, letting half of the loose pages of the sketchbook slide to the floor. "Fuck!"

"Potty mouth," Maggie reproached, raising a supercilious eyebrow.

"You should hold your mouth in front of children," Justin agreed, although amused, as he helped Brian gathering all that paper.

"I'm a teenager!" Maggie protested.

"Of course you are," Justin said, teasingly condescending, as he put his drawings back in order.

Without a word, Brian handed him the last thing that had fallen from between the covers of his sketchbook - the AFA exhibition's pamphlet. Justin studied Brian’s face, a mask of carelessness that, he knew, hid all the emotions that he refused to show.

Justin had planned to talk to him about the exhibition later, when they would be alone in Brian's apartment, but he considered to tell him the news right then and there. He expected Brian to be grumpy about it anyway.

However, Maggie's mother entered the room in that moment, preventing any conversation from happening.

As he greeted the woman, a fleeting word turned into an intriguing thought in Justin's mind. It was no longer about the exhibition, that matter was settled and only telling Brian might prove to be tricky. It was some other thing, something that stuck to his mind so hard that it distracted him from his surroundings, even as they said their goodbyes to Maggie and his mother, even when they were already driving off in Brian's Corvette.

"Italian? Mexican? Chinese?" Brian inquired.

"What?"

"I was asking what do you want to eat."

"Hum..." It took Justin a considerable mental effort to emerge from the depths of thought and focusing in his body's needs. "How about sushi?"

"Japanese, then." Brian turned the wheel, correcting their course.

"Are we going to see Gus after dinner?" Justin asked when they were already sitting by a low table full of colorful oriental delicacies.

"Better not," Brian stated, eating a sushi roll.

Justin frowned at the finality of his tone. "Why?"

Brian didn't hurry to finish chewing his food, swallowing slowly before replying, "Melanie kicked me out.”

“What?” Justin’s expression spoke of amusement and disbelief.

“I guess I’ve been spending a lot of time in there,” Brian admitted, shrugging. “There’s not much to do in here. Back in Pittsburgh I had Kinnetik, I met with my clients, I set up their campaigns… In here, it’s just paperwork! It gets really…”

“Lonely?”

“Boring,” Brian completed.

“And lonely," Justin insisted.

Brian grabbed another sushi roll with his chopsticks and stuffed his mouth with it to avoid replying.

"Don't you go to Moosie's sometimes?"

"Yeah. I don't stay long. I've been working at night."

"Maybe you could find someone there to keep you company?" Justin suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

Brian smiled. "I told you I wouldn't do that anymore."

"Look, I don’t mind," Justin said, sincere. "I'd rather be here with you myself, but I can't always be, so... I don't want you to feel lonely, and if that means you taking a hottie home once in a while, so be it."

Brian pressed his lips together to hide a smile. "Your concession is appreciated but, I've set my own rules and I intend to live by them. Besides, I do have a hottie home with me once in a while. _Sake_?"

Justin rolled his eyes as he chugged the strong liquor even though he never tried to hide his satisfied grin.

It wasn't his first dose of _sake_ that night and it wouldn't be the last either. Having kept the sobriety appropriate for a driver, Brian had to keep Justin from undoing his pants and blowing him on the way to the car, task he successfully accomplished despite his wavering motivation.

As soon as they got to the apartment and Justin threw his arms around Brian, trying by all means to stick his tongue down the other man’s throat, he didn't have to stop him anymore.

Justin panted, hanging from Brian's neck. "I can't believe I waited all evening to do this."

"Hm, maybe because you didn't," Brian pointed out, as he let Justin pull him into the bedroom. "And you would do much more than that hadn’t I stopped you."

Justin chuckled and pushed Brian onto the bed, sitting on top of him. "I thought you loved sex in public places."

"Not so public that I end up getting arrested."

Justin made an inebriate smile and leaned down to plant a sloppy kiss on Brian's cheek. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, letting himself fall on his side beside Brian. He laid his palm on Brian's face when he turned to face him. "You're beautiful, you know?"

"Yeah, you tend to tell me that when you're drunk," Brian said, amused, as he began unbuttoning Justin’s shirt.

"'Cause when I'm drunk I can get away with it without you making one of your snide remarks about hetero couples," he stated, sneaking a hand up Brian's sweater. There was no trace of resentment in his voice, just the mellowness brought up by the alcohol.

Brian's fingers froze on the last button as an image of Melanie flashed inside his mind. _Just because you don’t want to be a part of a proper couple, it doesn’t mean that other people don’t._ He raised his eyes to Justin that, already forgotten about what he'd just said, made fruitless efforts to pull Brian's shirt off. Brian sat up to make it easier for him. After letting Justin pull his shirt over his head, he undid the last button and opened Justin’s, running his hands softly over the younger man’s shoulders as he did so.

"We're a couple," Brian stated while Justin worked on undoing his pants. _Who knows for how long…_

Justin giggled. "I know that! I'm drunk, not dumb." He licked his lower lip when he finally undid Brian's fly, sliding his hand inside his pants to massage his crotch over the boxer briefs.

Brian cupped Justin’s face in his palms and kissed him, as if this was the last time. Justin responded in kind, humming into the kiss as he made Brian's pants and underwear slide down over his butt.

Brian wiggled out of what was left of his clothes as Justin laid down again, languid, watching him and doing a meek attempt at removing his own pants. Brian ended up having to pull them off himself. He kissed Justin's stomach as he did so, and Justin hugged his head to him.

In a few seconds, Brian was sitting on his heels with Justin’s hips on his thighs, Justin's legs over his shoulders and a bottle of lube in his hand.

"Say, Sunshine..." Brian squeezed the bottle, spreading a generous amount of lubrifying gel in between Justin’s legs. "Wouldn’t you say we're a proper couple?"

Sprawled on the bed, Justin hummed as one of Brian's slippery hands spread the lube over his entrance, and the other slowly caressed his shaft. He smiled at Brian's words and stroked the older man's cheek with his foot. Brian kissed it, making him chuckle. "I don’t think we look very proper right now." He gasped when two of Brian’s fingers slid inside him and raised his hips to meet them. "I don’t like 'proper' anyway."

Brian smiled and touched him deeper, right where it made him squirm. It did made him squirm.

Slipping a condom on himself and lubbing it up properly, Brian teased Justin’s entrance with his tip. Justin too teased Brian's tip with his entrance, his hips almost crawling up Brian's lap. Both their breaths became a bit ragged when Brian gave in and dove inside Justin, feeling his muscles clench all around him. Justin opened his arms to Brian, inviting, letting his legs slide down his shoulders to wrap around his torso as he laid down on top of him.

"Isn't this what couples do, Sunshine?" Brian asked, brushing Justin's hair off of his forehead, thrusting.

"Yes..." Justin sighed, and Brian was unsure if he was responding to his question or to his hips.

He moved very slowly at first, going as deep as he could, enjoying the way Justin’s fingers gripped the muscles on his back, and then pulling out, feeling Justin’s hard shaft sliding against his stomach.

“I missed you," Justin gasped, when Brian went all the way in again.

Brian chuckled, laying his sweaty forehead on Justin’s. "You missed my cock," he said, thrusting again.

"I missed all of you."

 Brian kissed him just like he was fucking him - deeply and slowly. When he paused the kiss, Justin heard him say, 'I missed you too', but what he actually said was, "I'll miss you too."

Later, Justin fell asleep with Brian's body enveloping his like a shell, feeling the older man's breath against the back of his neck, their legs comfortably tangled with one another.

Brian lay there awake for a while longer, wondering how many more chances he'd have to be next to Justin like this.

Eventually, he dozed off. It was already nighttime when he woke up alone in bed to the sound of Justin’s voice coming from the living room.

"...in there, that would be perfect!... Yeah, I do it now, don't I?... Well, the plan is to leave as soon as I can." He was talking on the phone.

Brian got up and, still naked, walked into the living room. Justin, lying on the couch as naked as his lover, raised his eyes to him and smiled. He sat up and gestured Brian to get closer as he kept talking to whoever was on the phone with him. "Will you come to Toronto this weekend?" Sitting beside him and nuzzling his neck, Brian recognized Michael's voice coming from the speaker, even though he couldn’t make out his words.

"Hum, crap..." Justin uttered, even though he looked anything but displeased as he ran his fingers over Brian's chest. “I'll call you tomorrow on my computer, ok?... Ok. Bye!" He laid the phone down on the coffee table and scooted onto Brian's lap, straddling him with a satisfied grin. "Hi, there, stud! Wanna have some fun?"

Brian smiled, cupping Justin's butt cheeks as the younger man kissed his chin, trailing down to his neck. "Whatever you and Michael are up to, it must be really good."

Justin smiled on Brian's collarbone. "Not yet... but it will be." He threw his arms around Brian's neck and kissed him deeply, before pulling back to declare, "We're gonna start a comic book publisher."

"Oh!..." Brian uttered with a slight frown.

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"Well... I'm trying to figure out how are you going to move forward with a project like that while you're traveling all over the country with the AFA exhibition."

Justin took a deep breath, bracing himself for Brian's reaction. "That’s the easiest part. I'm not going."

"You're not going..." Brian repeated, expressionless.

"I'm not going, I'm not applying to be on the exhibition," Justin stated. He knew the look on Brian’s face and spoke before he had the chance to express his sneering disapproval. “Do you realize that _Rage_ is going to be selling in eight different stores, in five different states next month?”

“Yeah, Michael makes sure to update me on it every single time we talk.”

Justin slid off of Brian’s thighs to stand in front of him. “If I could work on the illustrations full time, with Michael working on the stories, we could really make something out of it. We could work on spin-offs, and even different universes... And we wouldn’t have to rely on the printer, or anyone else besides us.” Brian’s eyes followed him as he began pacing back and forth, his enthusiasm showing as he spoke. “Of course there’s the initial investment to consider… we’ll need to find a suitable place, then there’s the equipment… but if the sales keep growing as they are, I don’t think that will be a problem. Depending on how things go, we might need to hire someone else, but…”

“What about painting?” Brian interrupted.

Justin stopped pacing and stood in front of him. “I’m still gonna paint. I love painting, but… let’s face it, I’m never gonna make a living out of it.”

Brian's narrowed eyes scrutinized Justin's face. “So that’s what this is about? Money?”

“No, it’s not just about money.” Justin sat on the couch, tucking one foot under his thigh. “It’s about getting a message across. I know most people would look at my paintings and see nothing but blotches on a canvas. Not even the critics get it sometimes! But Rage… Anyone can understand Rage, his heroism, his conflicts… and his flaws.” He smiled, playing with Brian’s hair. “You should see some of the e-mail from readers we received. It’s amazing!”

"Is all this because of what I said earlier?"

Justin smiled. "Actually... no. I'd already decided to dedicate my full time to _Rage_. Ony the publisher... that's on you. And, it's brilliant!"

Thoughtful, Brian ran his fingertips lightly over the inside of Justin’s thigh. “And… that’s really what you want to do?”

Justin nodded with conviction. “Yeah. I said from the start that I wanted to be a cartoonist, remember? I admit that I was a bit… lost for a while. I didn’t quite know what I wanted to do with my life so I went to wherever the wind blew but…” He opened his arms with his palms up. “This is it!”

Brian stared at him in silence for an endless moment. Then he sighed. “What a shame… I had so many things planned for when you’d be away!...”

“Did any of them involved going to meet me?”

“Most of them did.”

Justin kissed Brian’s smile, causing it to melt and meld with his lips.

“So, does this mean we’ll host a celebration in honor of… Rage Comics?” Brian asked, holding Justin around his waist.

Justin chuckled. “It might be a little too soon for that. Besides…” he threw Brian a cautious look. “I’ve made another decision… one that you might not be so eager to celebrate…”

He was surprised when Brian’s smile grew wider instead of vanishing. “I know you did. I knew you would.”

"And you're... ok with it...?" Justin uttered, skeptical.

"No, actually I think that having another kid is the craziest idea Lindsay had since she asked me to be the father of her first," Brian declared. "Although..."

Justin eyed him, his eybrows raised in expectation.

"Whether they know it or not, they might actually have done the wiser choice this time."

 

 

The next day, they had dinner at the girls house. Brian was rather amused by Melanie and Lindsay's small talk because they were so obviously avoiding the same subject they were dying to talk about, waiting for Justin to bring it up, while Justin, as aware of it as Brian was, chose to ignore it and let them take the first step.

Only when Justin mentioned that he wouldn’t apply to the AFA exhibition did Lindsay forgot momentarily about that one thing that she wouldn’t talk about.

“You won’t? But… do you realize how great an opportunity that is for…?”

“Yes, I do realize it,” Justin cut off, having anticipated her disapproval. “Actually, I seem to be surrounded by great opportunities lately… but I can’t have them all, can I?”

He spoke with such finality that Lindsay didn’t mention the subject again, going back to less than important conversation topics. Justin knew that this was just temporary, since there was a most pressing matter in her mind at the moment, but it wouldn’t be the last time they would talk about it. And whatever valid arguments she decided to throw at him then, Justin would give the same answer. She couldn’t be any more persuasive than Joshua Harris had tried to be.

Justin had a lot to thank Lindsay for. She’d always supported him and his art, but he suspected that she also took the chance to live through him the artistic career that she’d never had. At some point, he would have to make clear that their interests and goals when it came to art were not always the same.

When the children were already in bed and Lindsay served some tea in the living room, Melanie finally got tired of waiting.

“So, Justin… have you thought about what we asked you last weekend?”

Justin was taking his cup to his lips, but laid it back down on the saucer.

“Yes…”

“And?” Lindsay leaned forward on her seat, no longer bothering to hide her expectations.

“I’ll do it,” Justin said. Melanie and Lindsay smiled at each other, and then he added, “On one condition.”

This surprised even Brian, whose eyebrows flew to his hairline. The girls exchanged uncertain looks.

“Ok… what is it?” Melanie asked with suspicion.

Justin took a deep breath. “You were the ones who decided to have this baby. You want to bring him into existence, and raise him and cherish him as part of your family. Or her, it doesn’t matter. That makes you two the rightful parents.”

“And you, the sperm donor,” Melanie added, a bit more harshly than she’d intended.

“Yes,” Justin agreed. “But… I’m also deciding to do it, right? So… I’ll be a father too.”

Melanie opened her mouth to object, but Justin didn’t let her.

“I won’t make any claims for the custody of the child, or question your parenthood in any way. I know how that worked out the last time. Plus, I know that you’re probably better parents than I’ll ever be, so I can’t say I have an issue with helping you having this baby. I trust you both, and I trust your judgement.

“So… what’s the one condition?” Lindsay asked.

“That you trust me as well. Trust me to do as I say… without having to sign anything.”

Melanie threw a scorching look, not at Justin, but at Brian, who was hiding a smile behind his cup of tea.

Justin rolled his eyes. “And no, he didn’t put me up to it. I happen to have a mind of my own.”

After that, there was a moment of silence during which everyone in the room looked at everyone else, weighting the respective reactions. Melanie was obviously displeased with the unexpected turn of the events. Lindsay was confused. Justin appeared a certain calm, but his heart hammered inside his chest. After a whole week thinking about it he’d kind of warmed up to the idea, and he’d be disappointed if the girls decided to find their donor somewhere else. Brian had finished his tea and put an arm around Justin’s shoulders. He couldn’t be prouder.

“Well…” Lindsay uttered, tentative. “I think…”

“We need to discuss it,” Melanie concluded, cutting her off.

Lindsay gave her a displeased look. Melanie responded with a bright smile.

“What’s the reason you asked Justin for this again?” Brian intervened, surprising everyone. “I know why. It’s because he’s not like me, and he’s not like Michael either. Now, either you want it, or you don’t.”

Justin stared at him in disbelief. Was that Brian standing by him on this?

“We want it,” Lindsay declared. “Excuse us for a minute.” Lindsay pulled Melanie aside right when she was about to protest, leading her out of room. “We’ve already discussed this endlessly,” she whispered as both of them stood right outside the living room. “I thought we’d agreed! Are you really having a change of heart about this?”

“We agreed that he would be our _sperm donor_. That didn’t include any parental rights,” Melanie whispered back. “You know how that arrangement worked out with Michael.”

“I know, but… Brian’s right. Justin is not Michael.”

“Yeah. He’s not. Who knows what this one can come up with?” Melanie retorted.

Lindsay huffed, exasperated. “He won’t come up with anything! Justin’s young, he barely began making a living on his own. He won’t want to be burdened by a baby, he just… doesn’t want to be excluded either.”

“The papers are our only safeguard!”

“And not signing them is his,” Lindsay said. “So, I guess you better start thinking of someone else to do it.”

In the living room, Justin made an effort to make out their words, but to no avail.

“What do you think they’ll decide?” he asked Brian.

“They’ll do it,” Brian stated.

“How can you tell?”

“Melanie just needs to fuss about it for a bit. Then Lindsay will make her listen to reason. To _her_ reason, anyway.”

Melanie walked back inside with a less than pleased expression on her face. “Fine, we’ll do it!”

Justin looked at Brian, astounded. “Wow… You’ve really spent too much time with them.”

Melanie sat on the couch with her arms folded over her chest and Lindsay joined her, trying not to let her self-satisfaction show.

“Are you sure about this?” Justin asked the obviously disgruntled Melanie. The last thing he wanted was to create trouble between those two.

 “Yes, honey,” she said, her expression softening slightly. “Although, if you try to take advantage of our trust, you can be sure that I’ll find a way to sue your ass for it.”

“Huh… ok,” Justin uttered.

“Well… I’m glad we got to have everything settled today,” Lindsay sighed with a bright smile. "I happen to be on my fertile period for the next few days and it might not fall in such a convenient date soon, so if we could get it done now, it would be wonderful.”

“Yeah, sure,” Justin said. Mel and Lindsay kept staring at him. “Wait, you mean now, _now_?”

“Yes, why not? We have the insemination kit ready,” Lindsay said.

“And we could try again tomorrow before you leave, just to make sure,” Melanie added.

“Right…” Justin murmured, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. He looked at Brian, who tried not to laugh at his panicky face.

“Come on, Sunshine. It can’t be too hard for you.”

Justin rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. “So, should I do it right here or…?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Melanie jumped up from the couch. “Here, come with me.”

Justin followed her to their bedroom, where he entered with a very different state of mind than the last time. Too bad, because it would certainly have been better otherwise. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while Melanie opened a drawer in their vanity and took out a couple of pregnancy tests, a thermometer and an assortment of syringes, vials, tubes, and other medical material that Justin couldn’t identify, until she finally found a sample cup.

“Ah, here it is.” She handed it to Justin. “There you go. Make yourself comfortable.”

Then she left, closing the door behind her, and Justin was left alone staring at the cup in his hand.

Somewhat hesitant, he sat on the bed. He was opening the first button on his fly when a flash of the kind of things that might have occurred in that bed crossed his mind and he moved to one of the chairs. He opened the zipper, and his gaze laid on all the inseminating paraphernalia that Melanie had left on top of the vanity. Huffing, he turned the chair around so he was facing an empty wall.

_Not the most stimulating of sights either. I suppose I’ll have to use my imagination._

Justin closed his eyes, slid a hand inside his boxers and tried to conjure some hot scenario. He scowled, making a true effort but, for some reason, he could only think about babies and pregnant women.

He was startled by the click of the door opening as someone entered the room. Justin hurried to cover himself and looked over his shoulder at the inconvenient invader. They couldn’t possibly think that he was done so soon!

“Christ, Brian, I thought you were Melanie!”

“Why are you looking at the wall?” Brian asked, confused.

“Turns out it’s the most erotic view available,” Justin sighed.

“Oh…” Brian closed the door behind his back, before removing his shirt over his head, throwing it onto the bed and then throwing himself, lying with his head propped up on his palm. “How about now?”

Justin chuckled. “Slightly better.” He sighed. “I regret that I mocked Michael back then… It’s not that easy when you keep thinking about what it’s for…” He eyed Brian, intrigued. “How was it for you?”

“Easy. I didn’t think about it,” Brian promptly replied.

Justin smirked. “Of course you didn’t…”

“Maybe I should have,” Brian admitted, eyeing Justin as he looked, desolated, at the sample cup. “Having second thoughts?”

Justin shook his head slowly. “No, just… unsexy thoughts.”

“Well… it is a pretty lame way to make a baby,” Brian considered.

“What’s the alternative?”

“A great fuck, of course. Wasn’t that the reason why great fucks were invented?”

Justin raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting that I fuck Lindsay?”

Brian cringed. “God, no! What an image…. Now I’m gonna be soft for a week!”

“You asked for it!” Justin chuckled.

Brian got up from the bed and pulled him out of the chair.

“What are you doing?” Justin asked, as Brian dragged him until they were facing the vanity.

“What the fuck is this?” Brian grumbled, proceeding to sweep all the insemination material back inside its drawer. “Now come here.” He pulled Justin closer, so the younger man was in front of him, back to his chest, both of them facing the vanity mirror. “Look…”

Justin looked. He looked silly with his fly undone, the hem of his shirt all tousled and a plastic cup in his hand. Even Brian, with his shirt off, looked more composed. Maybe that was why Justin didn’t react when the older man brought his arms around him and began unbuttoning his. He just followed Brian’s fingertips as they undid his buttons one by one.

“Look at you, Sunshine,” Brian murmured next to his ear, meeting his gaze in the mirror with a slight smile. “They really got it right this time, didn’t they?”

“Hum… Brian? What are you doing?” Justin uttered, as Brian undid the last button and kissed him behind his ear, running a hand over his naked chest.

“Soft skin…” Brian sighed, brushing his thumb over Justin’s lower lip. “Perfect mouth… cute nose…” His eyes met Justin’s in the mirror “…beautiful blue eyes…”

Justin’s chuckled. “Cut it out!” he protested, even though Brian’s theatrics and skillful touching had him more than a little aroused. “The girls are…”

“Forget about them,” Brian cut off, pulling Justin’s shirt off of his shoulders. “They’re not here. I am.” He hugged Justin tight, feeling the bare skin of his back against the bare skin of his chest.

Justin looked at both their faces in the mirror, side by side, even though his mind was focused down south, where Brian’s crotch met his behind. “I thought you were going to be soft for a week,” he remarked.

“What can I say? You really are a fine specimen,” Brian teased, moving his hips forward.

Justin pushed Brian’s arms off of him. “Come on, Brian, I should be…”

“Oh, I know what you should be doing…” he tapped the plastic lid of the sperm collection cup that Justin still held in his hand, before his arms tightened around the man in front of him once again. “I have only one question, Sunshine…” Brian slid his hand inside the front of Justin’s underwear while murmuring next to his ear, “Do you want it inside you?”

Justin’s fingers clasped around Brian’s wrist, and for a moment the older man though he was going to pull his hand out of his pants.

Instead, Justin pushed it further in. “Yes,” he murmured. “I want it inside me.”

Soon, their pants were around their ankles and Justin was bent over the vanity, still keeping a tight grip on the sample cup, even though he’d already forgotten what it was for. Brian’s hips moved in sync with his as if in a smooth, slow dance.

Justin leaned back, resting his head on Brian’s shoulder, biting his lip to keep the silence as Brian’s hand moved up and down his shaft and Brian's cock slid back and forth inside him.

“Let me know when…” Brian breathed onto Justin’s cheek.

“What for?” Justin panted. “You always know when.”

Brian smiled at their reflection in the mirror, watching their bodies move in unison. Yes, he always knew, especially when he could look at Justin’s face like this. He knew by then the meaning of every twitch, every gasp, every look in his eyes. He knew what to do to ease him up or to take him over the edge. And yet, he wasn’t even near of getting tired of it.

“Do you have any idea, Sunshine, of how good you look when you come?”

Justin didn’t have any idea, and he didn’t get one that day either. He was standing before his image in a mirror, but he stopped seeing altogether as the wave of overwhelming pleasure spread from his hips, coursing through his whole body.

Brian felt Justin trembling in his arms as his seed poured inside the collection cup that he’d managed to open somehow. And he finally allowed himself to let go, biting Justin’s shoulder to muffle the sound of his own release.

With Brian’s arms still around him, their breathing slowing down, Justin stared at the cup as reality came back to him. He asked himself one last time if this was really the right thing to do, knowing that it was just a vain exercise of reasonability. He’d decided and his resolve was firm. Especially now.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Brian could guess what was happening inside Justin’s mind, but not all of it. When Justin returned his gaze, Brian didn’t quite get that smile, that unusually tender look in his eyes.

Justin was amazed at what just happened, at what Brian had done even after he’d said he didn’t approve of it. He’d been beside Justin – or rather, behind him – nonetheless. Justin guessed he’d always be, whatever choices he’d make. And he’d always find a way to do it with grandeur.

Everyone else either loved or hated Brian. Everyone else could either despise him or worship him. Justin knew of the best reasons to love him and the worst reasons to hate him, that's why he couldn't despise him. But at times like this he did feel like worshiping him. How ironic, Justin thought, that someone who claimed not to believe in love was also a love god.

Justin turned around and held Brian’s face in his hands. He opened his mouth, but realized he didn’t know what to say and closed it again. Brian raised his eyebrows questioningly. Justin threw his arms around his neck and kissed him, a full body kiss to say what no words could. Brian responded with equal enthusiasm, despite his slight confusion.

And then someone knocked on the door.

“We didn’t want to pressure or anything, but you’ve been in there for forty minutes. Is it taking much longer?”

 “No, I’ll be right out!” Justin said, as he and Brian hurried to put their clothes back on.

They left the girls to do their part and walked down the street to the Corvette. Brian felt Justin’s fingers interlace with his and, when he looked at him, found the same look he’d seen in the mirror before, accompanied by the same small, inscrutable smile.

“Feeling like a daddy yet?” Brian asked, when they got near the car.

“Not really. I thought that I’d feel something by now but… I guess it doesn’t feel quite real yet,” Justin realized as he spoke, leaning on the car door.

“Yeah. Wait until you hear the great announcement.”

“What announcement?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “’I’m pregnant.’”

Justin’s adoring look faltered for the first time since they left the girls house, giving place to sudden hilarity. He burst out laughing. “Do you have any idea of how weird you sound saying that?”

“When Lindsay says that to you, you’ll know weird.” He slapped Justin’s butt. “Now come on, get inside the car.”

When they’d both settled in the cozy interior of the Corvette and Brian turned on the engine, Justin finally spoke what had been his mind. “That was amazing.”

“Turning the car on?”

Justin chuckled. “No! The whole… sperm donation experience?”

“Oh… I thought _that_ was amazing most of the times we did it. Now you got me worried,” Brian snickered.

“I mean, I thought you would be grumpy about it. I never thought that you’d actually… help… me.”

Brian grinned. “You know how I like to get my hands dirty.” He held Justin’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and pecked his lips, before whispering, “You’re welcome.”

Justin smiled, this time his bright, amused smile. “Also… how come you’ve never mentioned my beautiful eyes and, huh… cute nose before?”

Brian let go of Justin’s chin and averted his eyes toward car ceiling, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. “Why should I have?”

“Well, because…” Justin leaned so he could speak next to Brian’s hear. “…it makes me horny.”

“That’s… a good reason,” Brian admitted.

“Say… did you say that just to mess around with me, or did you mean it?” Justin teased, putting his arms around Brian.

Brian scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Come on, tell me and I let you choose were we’re going to dance tonight,” Justin insisted.

“I was already going to choose!”

“No, you weren’t!”

Brian raised an eyebrow and looked at him sideways. He huffed. “Did I ever told you something that wasn’t the truth?”

“Yeah. You once told me you didn’t believe in love.”

Brian scowled, opened his mouth, then closed it again. He sucked his lips in, then licked them and stared at Justin. Then he spoke. “How about, _you_ choose the club and we end this conversation now?”

Justin grinned and leaned back on his seat. “Deal.”

 


	16. To make him happy

 

Justin was relaxing from the evening's work laying on Brian's couch, in the loft, wearing nothing but a t-shirt over his underwear, when the lock clicked and the door rumbled open. He raised his head from the white cushions to smile at Brian as he walked in, dressed for the night in the club under his leather jacket.

"Hope you're not too tired! I brought us company," Brian announced, stepping aside to let another man in after him.

Justin sat up to evaluate the visitor. He was handsome, as expected from all of Brian's guests. Tall, tanned, muscled yet not to excess, and with a captivating smile that, after taking a curious look around the loft, he aimed at Justin.

"So, is this the friend you mentioned?" he asked Brian.

Brian's eyes glinted towards Justin as he observed his reaction to their newest trick. "Yeah. I've heard that he's been working a lot for the past couple of days, and that he could use some time off to relax."

Justin smiled at him and stepped closer to the man who, in turn, gave him the most unusual once over he'd ever received. He felt that he wasn't just checking out his body, he was checking _him_ out.

"This is Igor," Brian introduced.

"Hector," the man corrected, unfazed, still eyeing Justin in the same curious manner.

"Right. Hector, this is..." Brian squinted at Justin in an apparent memory effort. "Actually, I don't think I remember his name."

Justin chuckled.

Hector smiled. "I suspect that won't be an issue." He stepped so close that Justin could feel his body heat radiate from him. At the same time, Brian was behind Justin, his arms around his waist, his familiar touch over Justin's stomach, pulling his shirt up over his blond head. Feeling the stranger's breath on his chest, his tongue pampering his nipple, Justin threw his head back over Brian’s shoulder and pressed Hector to go further down. And when he pulled Justin’s boxers off of his hips to take him into his mouth, Brian's hand directed Justin’s face back and up so he could claim his lips to himself.

The night was long and full, one like they hadn't had in a long time. Two months had gone by since Gus had been released from the hospital, two months of trips back and forth between New York and Toronto, Toronto and Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh and New York. It got exhausting sometimes, for Justin. Brian, on the other hand, seemed to have an endless reserve of energy, and was able to keep up with his job, his family and his lover with no apparent discomfort. At least, nothing that he'd complained about.

Truth was, having too busy a life proved very useful to help Brian succeed in his renewed determination to stop intoxicating himself. The extra occupations distracted his mind from any form of lingering unpleasant thought. They still poked at him sometimes, mainly in moments like this one, when he looked at Justin dosing off in his bed, beside their newly found companion. In these times, sometimes, a voice came from its hiding place in the back of Brian's head to whisper, _What are you doing? Where are you going with this? What good does it make?_

Brian threw himself away from the bed, trying to muffle the annoying voice that tied his thoughts in knots. The wiggling of the mattress caused Justin to wake up, and he grabbed Brian's wrist, stopping him from walking away.

"Where are you going?" Justin mumbled.

"Gonna have a shower," Brian mumbled back, and freed himself from Justin's fingers to head to the bathroom.

Alerted by his briskness, Justin sat up and followed Brian with his eyes as he stepped inside the shower booth and turned the water on.

"Shit, it's getting late," Hector exclaimed, having woken up with their exchange, starting to pull his pants on. “I’ve got to get going.”

Justin studied Brian’s back beyond the glass. He was in one of his moods again. He just wished he would tell him why. Sighing, Justin turned to Hector. “I’ll take you to the door.”

The trick gave him an intriguing smile, as if Justin’s casual words had made him think of something else.

Not bothering to put any clothes on, Justin walked Hector to the sliding door, opening it to him.

“Well, it was a pleasure,” Hector said, with the same unusual smile.

Justin smirked. “Likewise.”

Despite his farewell words, Hector remained rooted in place, staring at Justin. “Say… you and him… you’re together aren’t you?”

“What?”

Hector buried his hands in his jean’s pockets, looking amused now. “He may talk as if you’d just met, but there’s no mistaking the way he looks at you. Am I right?”

Justin raised one eyebrow at him. What was it to him if they were together or not?

Hector seemed to hear his thoughts. “Well, you’re a very unusual couple.”

Although a bit annoyed by the intrusion, Justin couldn’t resist his curiosity. “How so?”

“For one, you’re very different. From each other, I mean.”

“What, can’t short blond guys date tall brunets now?”

Hector chuckled. “I mean you’re different on the inside.”

“And you know this from the five hours you’ve known us for, most of which were spent fucking," Justin sneered.

“Yeah,” Hector declared, unwavering."You're both beautiful, of course, and desirable too, but..." He looked toward the bedroom, from where the sound of running water still reached them. "Him... he approached me like a god, a cold and blunt god, who knows that his every whim is to be satisfied. I looked at him, and I knew I'd never see anything of him beyond that. Hell, why would I even want to? I wanted him in spite of that. Actually, maybe that's what made me want him." He faced Justin again. "You, on the other hand... you smiled at me. You acted more like a human being and that's what made me want you."

Justin listened to him in utter astonishment.

"So, that's why I think you're such a curious pairing," Hector concluded. "The human and the god," he enuciated, dramatically. "The angel and the demon, the warmth and the ice.... the sunshine and the blizzard." He chuckled." Damn... I should start writing this stuff down! Don't you think?"

"I... no, I don't." Justin stated. "And... he's not like that, he's just..."

"...too insecure to get emotionally close to other people? Oh, I bet he is!" Hector completed, leaving Justin speechless once again. He looked toward the bedroom again. The water sounds had stopped. ''It must be difficult sometimes. Being with him, I mean."

"Doesn't that happen with everyone?" Justin pointed out.

Hector made a somewhat condescending smile before nodding. "It's probably quite an achievement too, though," he remarked. Once more, he stared toward the bedroom when the water started pouring again. There was something of longing in his expression. "Very unlikely, indeed..."

"What's so unlikely?" Justin asked.

"Couples like Kinney and you... they're either a tragic failure, or an amazing success. I sincerely wish you turn out to be the latter." Hector smiled. ''I really gotta go now. Hope to see you again sometime?" And with an amicable wave, the trick left, leaving an amazed Justin staring after him.

Torn between amusement and astonishment, Justin walked to the bathroom. The water was still running and the room was filled with vapor. Justin could even surprise Brian by stepping inside the shower booth without him noticing up until the moment he put his arms around the older man's wet torso.

"Where the hell did you found this one?" Justin asked.

"At the gym. Why?" Brian asked, running his fingers down Justin's forearms.

"He's kinda... particular, isn't he?"

"I thought he was hot. Maybe a little too talkative..." Brian considered. "Did he bother you?"

"No! It's just..." He propped his chin on Brian's shoulder. "He thinks that couples like us are bound to be either an amazing success or a tragic failure."

"Oh..." Brian tilted his head back so he was cheek to cheek with Justin. He pressed his lips together. "What do you think of that?"

"I think... he's probably right."

Brian turned around in the circle of Justin's arms to look at his face. "Which one are we, then?"

"Well, at this point... I'd say we've got everything to be a tragic success."

Brian smiled and cupped his face in both hands, but it was Justin who kissed him.

“Now move your ass, I’ve got to get some sleep. Unlike some people, I’m gonna be busy tomorrow.”

“What, you think I’ll be lying around all day? I have a lot of things to take care of too!” Justin said.

“Like what?”

“Like… Michael found this place that’s perfect for our project. Good space, good location and, most importantly, good price. We’re gonna take a look tomorrow and… we have some other stuff to… dig into.” He was hoping to sound mysterious but, if Brian was curious, he didn’t let it show.

“Great. Then, as I said – move! Water is not for free, you know?” And with a light slap on Justin’s butt, Brian left the shower booth.

“That’s not fair, you’ve been half an hour in here!” Justin protested, grabbing the shampoo.

Despite his protest, less than ten minutes later Justin was clean and out of the shower. Peeking out of the bathroom, he could see Brian lying in bed, smoking a cigarette.

Brian contemplated Justin’s naked body as he put the wet towel back on the rack after drying himself, and continued to observe him as he walked to the bed. He still remembered Justin as a scrawny teenager. Thinking of it, Brian couldn’t really tell what had attracted him to the boy Justin was at the time. He wasn’t exactly his type. Now, even though he still had a lean body, his shoulders were wider, his arms a bit larger… Overall, he looked more of a man and less of a boy. Actually, as he paid close attention, Brian would even say that his pecs and abs were slightly more defined than he remembered from the last time they’d been together.

“Have you been working out or something?” he asked, as Justin crawled next to him under the fresh, clean sheets.

Justin grinned. “I started going to the gym with Colin a couple of weeks ago. Can you tell?”

Brian raked Justin’s body with his eyes. “Yeah.”

Justin’s grin faded a bit. “You don’t like it.”

A smile shone in Brian’s eyes. “I like it.”

“Oh… So, you didn’t like it before?”

Brian expelled a cloud of smoke, amused. “I like it either way.”

Justin studied Brian’s face. Then, he snatched the cigarette from his hand. “Right, you take cock however it comes,” he sneered, before taking a drag.

Brian took the cigarette back from him. “I take _your_ cock however it comes.”

“Oh, really?” Justin grinned, propping his head up on his palm. “Tell me more about it!”

Brian hid his smile by finishing his cigarette. He smashed it in the ashtray on the nightstand, before settling with his head on the pillow, staring up at Justin’s amused face. “I’m glad you could come. Like this I might actually survive the boredom tomorrow night.”

That weekend, Lindsay and Melanie were in Pittsburgh for the first time since they'd moved. Gus disease had kept them from traveling for longer that they'd expected. Now that they were visiting, they'd invited everyone for a big reunion dinner.

Justin laid his head down on his pillow beside Brian, one of his hands sliding distractedly over the older man's stomach. "Aw, come on! It'll be nice, everybody together again, just like the old times," Justin mused.

Brian rolled his eyes. "The nicest part being the end of the night, when I leave for Babylon's Cheeky Cheeks contest."

Justin sighed. "Just like the old times..."

"Hey, you said you'd come with me," Brian pointed out, poking Justin's side.

''I will. I just don't quite understand your need to flee the people you like for those you don't even know."

“What do you mean? I know most of those guys!”

“Knowing the inside of their asses doesn’t really count,” Justin said, pointedly.

“Oh… Well,” Brian shrugged with an evasive expression. "It's the first time this event will be held, and I wanna be there. Besides, I've gotta enjoy my youth while I can."

Justin rolled his eyes.

Brian put an arm over him to cup his butt playfully. “Hey, I bet you could make it to the podium.”

“I’m sure I could.” He pulled Brian’s hand away from his behind and laced their fingers together. “But I’m way too mature now to need that kind of silly competition to build my self-confidence.”

Brian smirked. “Of course you are.” He pulled Justin closer by the hand to peck his lips before turning around. “Go to sleep now. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” And he turned off the light.

Justin faced Brian’s back in the darkness, wondering if he’d gone a little too far in his teasing somehow. He placed a tentative hand on Brian’s shoulder and, as it elicited no reaction, he ran his fingers down the older man’s arm, let his arm rest around his waist and closed his eyes.

Justin fell asleep rather quickly. Brian remained awake for a long while, feeling Justin’s heat against his back.

 

 

“I’m still not sure if this is a good idea,” Michael uttered. “Knowing Brian, he’s just gonna laugh at us. And, he won’t make it any easier on us because we’re best friend and boyfriend… or… whatever you are.”

Justin gave him a droll stare. “We _don’t want_ him to make it easier, remember?” he pointed out, looking around Kinnetik’s ample office, bustling with activity that morning. “That’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah, we are here. Now what? Is there a reception area? This place is a mess!” Michael said, scanning the multiple workstations, conjoint throughout the space.

“It’s not ‘a mess’. It’s designed to favor concerted work, creative thinking and ideas flowing.”

“It seems to favor chaos more than anything."

"Just because you're not a creative person."

"Not a creative person? Do you forget you're talking about Rage's creator here?"

"One of Rage's creators, if you please!"

"Justin?"

Michael and Justin turned around to find Cynthia's staring at them with a surprised smile. She walked to them and greeted Justin with a quick hug. "It's been so long! Brian tells me you've made your way in New York quite well."

Justin made a half-shrug. ''I managed."

"So, where is he?" Michael looked around, hoping to see Brian pop out of the same undefined place Cynthia had.

"Oh, Brian's having a meeting in his office, but I'm sure it's almost over." Cynthia peeked over her shoulder at Brian's office door right on cue to see it open and someone coming out.

Someone who caught Justin's attention for a number of reasons. First, he was a tall, attractive brunet. Second, he was still talking amicably with Brian, who followed him out. And third, Brian was chattering back with him, smiling at something he'd said. It wasn't a smirk, nor a cynical grimace, it was a genuine smile, the kind of smile he, Justin, only saw when they were alone. Not anymore, it would seem.

"Who's that?" he asked Cynthia, as Brian dismissed the other man with a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Oliver? One of our new ad execs. A fine one, too," she added, intently.

"Yeah, I've noticed," Justin murmured. _So_ that’s _Oliver._ Brian had mentioned his name once or twice. He’d mentioned going out with this new employee, Oliver, for a drink at Woody’s. Justin wondered why he’d never mentioned he was this hot.

Meanwhile, Brian noticed their presence and came to them.

"What are you doing here?"

"There's something we need to talk to you about," Michael declared.

"Business," Justin added.

Raising one eyebrow, Brian gave Cynthia an interrogative look.

"Don't look at me! I just got here, same as yourself."

"Can we talk in your office?"

Amused by Justin's professional stance, Brian gestured for them to walk to the office ahead of him. Cynthia followed the three of them, curious.

Inside the office, Brian and Cynthia took the chairs behind his desk. Michael took the place opposite of him while Justin sat in a corner of the desk itself, facing Brian.

“We just found the perfect place for our publisher offices,” he stated.

“Good,” Brian said. “What’s that have to do with me?”

Justin and Michael exchanged looks.

“We thought that, since we’re now launching our own company – and business is already doing great - we could use an extra boost,” Michael said.

Brian raised his brow, waiting for more.

“We want to hire you,” Justin clarified. “To create a campaign for Rage Comics.”

Brian stared at them. And he kept staring. "Are you serious?" he uttered, at last.

"See?” Michael whined. “I knew he would just laugh in our faces."

"He's not laughing," Justin pointed out.

''I'm not laughing," Brian corroborated. "I'm trying to figure out how you intend to pay for Kinnetik’s services. Because, as much as I'd like it otherwise..." His hand slid, teasing, up Justin's thigh. "...we're still not accepting payment in goods."

Justin held the naughty hand mid-track. "That wasn't our intention either," he assured.

"Actually, we thought we could arrange a good deal in exchange for advertising space for you in our pages," Michael confessed.

For a moment, Brian looked mildly interested. "Still," he insisted. "It's probably more than you can afford.”

Brian's eyes narrowed as Michael and Justin exchanged looks of amusement.

“Just how much are you making in sales?”

"When you have numbers for us, we'll talk about what we can and what we can't afford," Justin evaded, smug.

Brian looked at them, from one determined face to the other, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Very well." He pulled a form from a drawer and, after filling several spaces, handed it to Cynthia. "Take this to Alice, please. Ask for a rough estimate."

"Sure, Brian." Cynthia left the office with the form in hand.

Michael jumped after her. "Wait! There are some things that I need to clarify about this..."

Brian and Justin followed him with their eyes until he disappeared behind the door, before they turned their attentions toward each other.

Brian propped his face up on his palm, looking up at Justin. "So... you really are going big with this."

Justin grinned. "I told you!” He leaned closer so he was right on Brian’s face. “Think you have what it takes?"

Brian chortled. “What do _you_ think?” he murmured against Justin’s lips, before parting them with his tongue.

Justin cupped Brian’s face in both his hands, responding to the passionate kiss. Brian slid his chair closer to the desk to wrap his arms around his lover, pressing his body against him. Justin hummed when Brian’s hands slid inside the back of his pants.

“Are you seriously considering doing it in here?” he panted against Brian’s lips.

“As if it would be happening for the first time,” Brian said, proceeding to kiss Justin’s neck.

“Cynthia would walk in on us.”

“As if _that_ would be happening for the first time.”

Justin was almost lying down across the desk with Brian on top of him when the door rumbled open and Oliver came in, studying a clipboard.

“Brian, when are you…” the man came to a sudden halt at accessing the scene before him. Brian had managed to pull Justin back up on his feet, but the way they adjusted their clothes didn’t leave any doubts as to what had been happening. “Huh… I’m sorry. I’ll come back later.”

“It’s ok, come in,” Brian said, sitting back on his chair and buttoning his jacket. “I don’t think you’ve met Justin…?”

“I didn’t have the pleasure, no,” Oliver confirmed, studying Justin with obvious curiosity.

“Well… Justin, meet Oliver. Oliver – Justin,” Brian introduced.

Justin shook Oliver’s hand, returning the attentive exam. He hadn’t missed the fact that he called Brian by his first name even though he’d been working for him for just a few months, and that he felt comfortable enough to walk into his boss’s office without knocking.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Oliver replied. The smile that he addressed to Justin was nothing like the one he’d given Brian earlier. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Justin declared, enjoying the surprise that flashed across Oliver’s features.

"Now, what did you want to ask me?" Brian intervened.

''It's about next month general meeting..."

The content of their conversation faded out in Justin's mind as he observed the interaction between the two men, confirming what it had seen before - Oliver was more comfortable with Brian than most of his older employees. In fact, more than most people. Except for a selected few - Justin, Michael, Lindsay and, maybe, Cynthia - Brian always built his wall of arrogance and sarcasm between himself and other people. With Oliver, he didn't seem to be making an effort to keep it up. Why would Brian let this guy in like that? And even more intriguing - why would the guy want to get in?

"Did you fuck him?" Justin asked as soon as Oliver closed the door behind his back.

"You know very well that I don't fuck guys who work for me."

"This one kind of deserved an exception, though,” Justin insisted, trying to gauge Brian’s reaction.

"No exceptions," Brian deadpanned, turning his chair to face him. He tilted his head to the side “What are you still doing all the way over there?”

Justin smiled and walked to Brian, putting his arms around him over the back of the chair. “Shouldn’t we be checking on Michael and Cynthia? They’re gone for a while now,” he murmured next to Brian’s hear, placing a small kiss on his ear shell.

“Maybe they don’t want to walk in on anything,” Brian suggested, pulling Justin from behind the chair and onto his lap. “We should take the chances thrown upon us.”

Justin received Brian’s kiss with a chuckle. “So this is the work you do everyday? It isn’t so bad,” he sighed, weaving his fingers through Brian’s hair, letting Brian’s lips explore his neck.

“Can’t say you’ll have a lot of time for it from now on,” he murmured against Justin’s skin.

Justin pulled back. “What are you talking about?”

“How exactly do expect to release new comic books, and more often, while you’re in New York working in that godforsaken place?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “It’s not a godforsaken place.”

“Whatever. How do you plan on doing it?”

“We have new collaborators.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Colin and Heather. They’re already familiar with the style, they’re interested in a little extra income, plus it will look good on their résumé, so they accepted to work for us part-time.”

“And… that’ll be enough?”

"For now."

"What about after?"

"My initial contract with the store was six months. When it ends..." Justin shrugged.

"You can work on Rage full time," Brian concluded.

"That’s the plan!” He smiled, cupping Brian’s face in his hands. “Don't worry, your services _will_ be paid."

"I'm not worried about that," Brian said.

Justin raised his eyebrows. "What are you worried about, then?"

Brian shook his head. "Nothing." He smiled and nuzzled Justin’s face. "I'm not worried. You _are_ a genius, after all."

Justin smiled and kissed Brian’s lips, before getting up from his lap. "And this genius is going to look for Michael now. We didn't come here to play," he whispered, rubbing Brian’s nose with his.

"That’s too bad," Brian stated, keeping a hold on Justin’s hand for a while longer, before letting it slide away.

"See you later at dinner?" Justin asked, leaning on the other side of the desk.

"Sure, see ya..."

Brian took in the beaming smile Justin gave him, before he walked out the door. He closed his eyes tight shut, as his thoughts knotted tighter.

_You really don't need me, do you? I'm glad... Now, what do I do?_

 

 

Brian arrived at the restaurant right when Justin peeked outside for him.

"Finally! Gus has been asking for you. I almost thought you'd given up on the dinner and went to the Cheeky Cheeks contest early."

"Why would I do that?"

Justin shrugged. "To enjoy your youth while you can? Come on in!"

The restaurant, the same Ted had worked at as a singing waiter, was crowded. Truth be told, most of the crowd was _their_ crowd. Debbie and Carl were present, as was Emmett, and Ted, who’d brought Blake along. The happy families - Michael, Ben and Hunter, Lindsay, Melanie and their children - had both come. Even Jennifer was there, well accompanied by Tucker.

Gus was the first one to notice their entrance. “Dad! Look what I did!” He turned to Lindsay. “Mommy, show him!”

“Now it’s eating time. You can show your drawing to you father later,” Lindsay said, before smiling at the newcomer. “Hello, Brian!”

Gus pouted but didn’t protest as Brian kissed him hello, before going around the table to take the free seat at Ben’s right hand, opposite of the girls. Justin sat between him and his mother.

“So, how are you doing?” Ben asked Brian, after the waiter had taken their order.

Brian frowned. “Fine…?”

“I mean, how’s your cleaning up process?” Ben clarified.

“Some days better than others. Isn’t it like that with everything?”

“Justin told me you’ve been meditating.”

“He did, hey?” Brian grumbled, head-slapping Justin.

“Hey! What was that for?” Justin protested.

“You must learn to keep your mouth shut.” And Brian sealed Justin’s lips with a deep French kiss.

Gus let out a contagious baby chuckle that set everyone else at the table laughing without further reason.

Justin rubbed the back of his head, confusion and amusement equally mixed in his smile.

“I think it’s great that you overcame your prejudice,” Ben said, smiling. “It can be a great help for you.”

“You are so right, Professor! Why enjoy life when you can spend your time staring into nothingness?” Brian scoffed.

“There’s more than one way to enjoy life. There's more than _your_ way,” Ben stated. “And just like the carelessness of youth, they might not be around forever.”

“You are very philosophical today, Professor,” Brian said, with an empty smile.

“This is not philosophy, Brian, it’s concrete reality. As someone who prides himself for being a hardcore realist, you should understand this.”

Brian didn’t answer. He eyed Gus before him, intensely conscious of Justin by his side. _They’re ok. That’s all that matters._

Beside him, Justin was oblivious to their conversation as he talked to Jennifer.

“…and he didn’t let her come, even though I’ve exchanged my time with him several times when they go visit your grandma,” she complained.

“You know how dad is. He’d never let Molly hang out with my friends and I, he’s made it very clear several times.”

Jennifer sighed. “I guess I hoped he would reconsider with time. But he’s just as intransigent as he ever was…”

“He won’t change, mom. It’s useless to hope for it,” Justin stated.

“Some people do change,” Jennifer said, throwing a surreptitious look in Brian’s direction.

Justin made a sad smile. “Some people might learn to be true to themselves. Which, I’m afraid, dad already is.”

Meanwhile, the waiters began bringing their meals and, making use of tthe momentary silence generated by everyone paying attention to their plates, Lindsay cleared her throat.

“Can I have your attention please, before you launch yourselves to your food?”

A couple of protesting mumbles later, came from the hungriest ones, every face on the table was turning to her.

“Ok, so, first of all, I’d like to say how happy we are to be back here, to be with you,” Lindsay said, with a huge smile on her face. “Toronto is great, but we miss all of you every day.”

“Well, except for Brian,” Melanie corrected.

“Because we see him more often, of course,” Lindsay added, giving her wife an admonishing look.

“Of course that’s what I meant!” Melanie assured.

“Can we go back on topic? I’m starving,” Hunter protested, earning a head-slap from Michael.

“Well… ok… so…” Melanie and Lindsay exchanged smiles, clearly bursting with enthusiasm about something. Brian had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Mel and I would like you to know that… we’re gonna be mommies again.”

There was a shocked silence. Nobody, except for Brian and Justin, knew of their plans to have a third child.

“I’m pregnant,” Lindsay announced, unsure if their friends had understood what she’d said.

And finally the bubble burst.

“Oh my god! I’m so happy for you?”

“For how long have you known this?”

“When are you due?”

“Where did you find the donor?”

“Oh my god!”

While everyone surrounded the mothers with attention, making them bright with joy, Brian eyed Justin, who’d turned whiter than the white squares on the tablecloth. Brian laid a hand on his shoulder, and he looked back at him as if he was seeing Brian for the first time. “I… I need to go to the toilet,” he mumbled.

Brian watched him stumbling away towards the restrooms, before he hesitated and crossed the door to the inner patio.

“Is he okay?” Jennifer asked Brian. She didn't know, he realized

“I guess he needed some fresh air.”

Jennifer eyed him with suspicion, but inquired no further.

“Hey, where’s Justin?” Lindsay asked, when the wave of people surrounding them in effusive congratulations subsided.

Brian glared at her. “You could have told us this in a more… intimate… setting, don’t you think?”

Lindsay’s smile faltered a little. “We just… we thought it would be nice, to make it a big announcement…”

Brian turned his back on them went after Justin.

The patio was a pleasant space, surrounded by small trees and bushes. It would certainly be full of people if it wasn’t freezing cold outside. Like this, the metal tables and chairs were all piled up in a corner and Justin was the only soul in sight, sitting, curling, in a long bench by the wall.

Brian buried his hands in his pockets and walked in silence until he was standing before him. “You ok?”

Justin looked up at him, still appearing to be slightly sick. “Yeah, just needed some fresh air, I’m just…” He ran his hand through his blond hair. “I’m kinda terrified.”

Brian sat down beside him. “Well… you did know what all that come was for, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but… this is it. It’s done. There’s no turning back.”

“Were you hoping to?”

Justin shook his head, tentative. Then he repeated the gesture with greater resolve. “Of course not. But to think that…” He ran his fingers through his hair again before giving his lover a desperate look. “Brian, I don’t know how to be a father.”

“Do you think that’s something people are born knowing? Besides, the girls will be doing most of the parenting, so relax.” He put an arm around Justin’s shoulder for comfort, but there was still something creasing the younger man’s brow.

“They say… that when you have a child, you feel this wonderful thing…" Justin said. "...that your heart grows inside you… that you know that little thing will be the most important thing in your life, forever. Is that true?”

Brian smirked. “What kind of soaps have you been watching?”

“Is it true?” Justin insisted.

Brian sighed. “No, it’s not true.” Justin opened his mouth to speak but Brian didn’t let him. “It’s better than that.”

Finally, Justin smiled a little. “Really?”

Brian nodded, returning the smile. “It’ll be even better to you.”

“How do you know?”

Brian shrugged. “I just know.”

Justin studied his face, amused and in wonder, before lowering his eyes to his own lap. “Then… I guess I’ll miss him – or her - all the time,” Justin murmured. His eyes met Brian’s. “Like I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“You’re ‘right here’ a couple of days a week, and not even every week,” Justin grumbled before he could stop himself.

Brian looked away. He knew it would get to this someday. He looked back at Justin when the younger man's hand squeezed his arm.

“I know there’s no helping it. I have my job in New York, you have your son in Toronto… I should be grateful that we get to be together almost every week. It’s just… difficult sometimes.” Justin’s arm crept around Brian’s waist. “How did you deal with it… when you were away from Gus all the time?”

Brian’s arm held Justin tighter. “Knowing he was ok… Knowing that he was happy… that was enough. As for the time I was away..." he shrugged. "It just didn't matter."

A slow smile grew on Justin’s lips. “Who’s been watching soaps, I wonder?” he teased.

“I have a lot of free time now.”

Justin sighed and laid his head on Brian’s shoulder. “I still miss you, though.”

“You have a job, you have your friends, now you even have your own company," Brian pointed out, voicing for the first time what had been on his mind for months. "What do you need me for when you have yourself?”

Justin smiled. “Nothing. I don’t need you.” He raised his head from Brian’s shoulder so he was eye to eye with him. “Now that I think of it, I don’t need painting, or drawing, either. I could just work at that store, or any other like it to earn my living.”

“What…?”

“Or I could be a waiter,” Justin cut off, on a roll. “Since I have plenty of experience from the diner. I wouldn’t need to make art anymore.”

“You’d be miserable,” Brian deadpanned. He would never forget Justin's pain when his disabled hand had kept him from working on his art properly.

Justin grinned and caressed Brian’s hair. “Smart boy!” Sliding both arms around Brian’s neck, he dove onto the older man’s lips, which promptly reciprocated his affectionate attack. “I’m not with you because I need you,” Justin breathed, his forehead resting against Brian’s. “I’m with you because you make me happy.”

A tight knot loosened up inside Brian at Justin's words. Their mouths met once again, eager lips and gluttonous tongues finding one another in a tidal wave of want. Brian cupped Justin’s face when they parted, both their breaths a little ragged. “I want you to be happy.”

Justin let out a joyful chuckle. “I know you do,” he said, pecking Brian’s cheek, and that same knot, so tight before, vanished altoghether.

“Hey, we should celebrate,” Brian stated, grabbing his shoulders.

Justin was confused for a second. “Oh! You mean, my…? Lindsay’s…?”

Brian nodded.

“What do you suggest? The Cheeky Cheeks contest?”

“Sure, if you want to."

“What if I don’t want to?”

“We do whatever else it is that you want instead.”

Justin frowned a little, still in doubt. “What about enjoying your youth while you can?”

Brian sighed. “There are other things I want to enjoy while I can.”

“Ok… so we can do whatever I want?”

“You’re the new father, aren’t you?”

Justin narrowed his eyes. “Then how about… taking the next flight to Paris, spend the whole week there?”

“Sure, why not?” Brian promptly replied.

Justin grinned. “Lucky for you, I won’t want that much.”

“Then what?”

“I was thinking… after we have a drink with the girls at Woody’s, we could… head for Babylon, just so you can check if everything is going smoothly. Then, we can leave early, just the two of us.” Justin ran his thumbs over the collar of Brian’s shirt. “We could take a nice Champaign to the loft…”

“How about bourbon?”

“Champaign,” Justin insisted, pulling at Brian’s collar for emphasis. “Then we’ll set our pillow bed on the floor, and we’ll drink to my child. And to your child. And to the mother of my child. And to the mother of your…” he paused. “Damn!”

“What?”

“I’ve just realized!... Lindsay’s… Your… My child will be Gus brother, or sister. Like, for real. They’ll have the same mother.”

Brian shook his head in mock disapproval, with an amused smile. “And all this time I thought you were a genius.”

“But… isn’t that weird? Although…” He hesitated. “It’s kind of… a good weird.”

Brian smiled. “We’ll drink to that.”

“Right… and then… I’ll take off all your clothes,” Justin said, nuzzling Brian’s behind his ear.

“Hmm…”

“Then I’ll kiss you. I’ll kiss your mouth, and your neck…” he proceeded, following his words with the respective gestures. “I’ll kiss your chest,” Justin said onto Brian’s lips. “I’ll touch you, and caress you…” Brian’s tongue peeked in between his lips and met Justin’s half way, right before their mouths did. “Then I’ll rim your ass until you beg me to stop.”

“That’s very unlikely to happen,” Brian chortled.

“And then…” Justin took a deep breath before whispering on Brian’s ear. “Then I’ll fuck you… I’ll make love to you… I’ll do everything to you…” He pulled back and found Brian’s eyes reflecting his lust back at him. “Can we do that?”

Brian smirked. "Whatever you say…” He leaned closer to Justin’s ear. “…Daddy.”

 

END OF PART 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to split this story into 2 parts, since there will be a time gap, and different story arcs will develop from now on. I still don't have a title for this "NDNC part 2", but when you look for this story's new update (not likely to happen before Christmas), watch out for a new work poping up on my page. Hope you enjoyed the story so far ;)


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